


Within

by SpaceDimentio



Category: Super Paper Mario (Game)
Genre: Almost Rape, Emotional Abuse, M/M, Physical Abuse, Slash, Vore, emotional distress, general not-okayness, loads of warnings, lots and lots of crying, many not ok things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-02 21:29:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14553912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceDimentio/pseuds/SpaceDimentio
Summary: A demon, his heart made of black ice and his smile made of lies. A man, staring cold death in the face and helpless to stop it. Didn't anyone ever tell them that nothing goes as planned?Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.Written in 2015, ON HIATUS





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy, what's this horrible mess of a thing I've made? I started this on a whim and then it turned into whatever you wanna call this sort of thing. If you'll stick with me, it'll get less gross and more emotional later. But, a warning. I've never written something like this before, and definitely never imagined that I would even try to. If you're looking for fluffiness, look elsewhere. This fic is about terrifyingly complex emotions and a probably unhealthy relationship. Also, I don't know what I'm doing, so there's that.
> 
> If you don't wanna read, you should go check out my other SPM stuff. Those are much less M-rated.  
> This fic is alternately titled "Nobody Has Any Fun Ever", and is affectionately referred to as a garbage fic and an emotional shitpile. Not to say I didn't put any effort into this, oh no no no. In fact, this is the longest, most quality thing I've ever written, and sometimes I can't even with it. It seems like its written itself, almost. As of this posting, I have 10 chapters written, and have sometimes spent almost 5 hours in a row writing, which is unusual for me. The chapters themselves are also much, much longer than my normal, and I keep watching the word count go up in amazement.
> 
> So... I hope you guys will enjoy this as much as I do. Now, without further ado, release the beast!
> 
> 5/5/2018 edit: I shouldn't have to say this, but I do not think that anything in this story is ok. Abuse of any kind is an awful, awful thing to do to someone. An author can write about bad things happening in their stories without thinking they're ok to happen in real life, yeah? I may have morbid fascination, but that doesn't mean I want bad things to happen to real-life people, yeah? 
> 
> This fic was an experiment in writing something purposefully messed up. Perhaps I succeeded a little too well, though the fact that it took nearly 3 years to get any flames seems to say that I was doing something or other right. Anyway, enjoy. Or don't.
> 
> If you don't like vore, you may want to skip to chapter 3.

1  
  
Luigi was first aware of the pounding in his temples. He opened his eyes blearily, quickly shutting them again with a groan. The lime green ceiling above him was way too bright… Wait, lime green? His room wasn't that color. With a panicked gasp, he opened his eyes again. His headache only got worse at the garish brightness.  
  
He sat up, but became overpowered by dizziness and had to tuck his head into his knees to just breathe for a moment. His thoughts began to form some sort of order. First off, he was naked. He didn't sleep in the nude. Second, he was clearly in an unfamiliar place. Third, what was he sitting on?  
  
With the headache in check, he slowly stood up and looked around. The eye-gouging color of the walls seemed horribly familiar somehow, as if he'd seen them in some terrible nightmare of his. He looked down and saw that he wasn't even wearing socks, and was also standing on something that appeared to be polished cherry wood.  
  
In fact, it seemed to be a very large, flat plane of cherry wood. Luigi walked cautiously to the nearest edge and peered over it. There was only carpet an even worse color green than the walls, and the long wooden legs of the thing he was standing on reaching down to the floor. He was…on a table? But…why was it so big? He began to pace around the empty tabletop.  
  
His pondering was interrupted by a lilting voice he hadn't heard in years. He shivered and turned to face the speaker.  
  
"Ah ha ha ha… Finally awake, are we Mr. L? Or should I call you Luigi?"  
  
Towering over him was a thin, limber man wearing a comic's mask; the man who haunted his darkest dreams.  
  
"D-Dimentio?" Luigi squeaked, unable to move.  
  
The masked man cocked his head, smiling coyly. "So nice to see you again, man in green," he said. "Though you seem to be lacking in the green department at the moment."  
  
Luigi tried to suppress his shaking. He'd noticed another thing. The jester was much, much bigger than him somehow, a fact that left him disturbingly helpless. "H-How… Wh-What's going on? You're supposed to be dead!"  
  
Dimentio chuckled. "Oh, it's taken me a number of years to recover my strength and escape from that pit of despair called the afterlife. As to your role here, well…you'll see, ah ha ha ha!"  
  
Dimentio came closer, causing Luigi to scramble backwards and fall over onto his backside. Dimentio leaned in until his breath washed over the hapless plumber.  
  
Luigi's view was filled by the masked smile. He covered his nose, not wanting to breathe in the stale air, even if it was faintly minty. He tucked in his legs, trying to hide his nakedness. "W-What do you want with me?"  
  
Dimentio's smile twitched. "…Revenge, of course. I hope you've said goodbye to everything you care about, because you  _will_  die here, like an animal trapped in quicksand."  
  
Luigi stared into the jester's mismatched eyes, tears trickling down his cheeks as he nodded haltingly. He remembered ever so vaguely suffering at his hands before, during a time when he was someone else. He knew Dimentio meant what he said. With their size difference, he couldn't hope to fight back. He could only wait.  
  
Dimentio said nothing for a moment, savoring the tiny man's fear. "...I am a bit of a voraphile. Do you know what that means?"  
  
Luigi slowly shook his head.  
  
"Let me give you a hint." Dimentio's expression changed from the aggravating smile he always wore into something more dangerous and predatory. He bent down further and, without giving the plumber time to react, licked Luigi's entire face.  
  
The force of the jester's tongue knocked Luigi over. He sputtered and wiped the sticky saliva out of his eyes, feeling it coating his face and making his hair stick up oddly. He sat up, breathing erratically. He looked up in time to see Dimentio licking his lips, and shuddered with sudden understanding. His eyes widened in terror, and he began to shiver so violently he couldn't have moved even if he had wanted to. There was no escape anyway. He'd die if he jumped off the table, and there would be punishment for trying.  
  
Luigi tucked his head into his knees and sobbed freely, squeezing his eyelids shut. His nerves tingled in the darkness, awaiting the sensations that were sure to come next.  
  
Dimentio let him suffer in anticipation for a bit. "Certainly, it's all too easy to make you just the right size." He toyed with one of the bells on his hat. "I'd play with you for longer, but really I've got so many people to get revenge on. You are but the first. You can rest easy knowing that your brother will suffer for many weeks before joining you."  
  
Luigi mumbled something.  
  
"Oh, did you say something?" Dimentio leaned back over his victim, his nose centimeters away.  
  
Luigi flinched. "P-Please don't…"  
  
"Please don't what?" Dimentio replied in a sickeningly sweet tone.  
  
Luigi let out another sob. "Y-You can do w-w-what you want to m-me… P-Please l-leave everyone else alone…"  
  
Dimentio blinked, then began to laugh. "Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! You really are naïve, aren't you! Do you really think I'd be satisfied with just you?" He suddenly stopped laughing and slammed his hand down on the table, jolting the terrified man.  
  
Luigi lifted his head and pleadingly met the jester's gaze once more. Dimentio tipped forward just the slightest bit and slowly, gently, licked the plumber's face again. Luigi trembled and cringed, not daring to move away. Dimentio hummed softly at the salty taste of his victim's anguish. He gave him a few more soft licks before stopping.  
  
Luigi moaned and curled tightly into a ball, trying to block out reality.  
  
"Oh, I'm going to enjoy this," Dimentio whispered. Without further hesitation, he reached out and grabbed the plumber, wrapping his gloveless fingers securely around the small human's waist and chest. Luigi yelped and writhed in his grasp, but he certainly wasn't going to let him go. Dimentio squeezed him, enough to cause bruising and silence his protests. The jester positively delighted in the feeling of his helpless and shivering prey. "Don't worry, it'll only hurt for a little while," he said maliciously.  
  
The magician opened his hand so that Luigi was lying on his palm with his legs dangling off. He nuzzled Luigi's body, inhaling his scent and feeling himself salivate. Luigi weakly tried to push him away. Dimentio wasn't having any of that, and licked the soles of Luigi's feet. Luigi whimpered and tried to squirm away, prompting Dimentio to lift his other hand and pin the plumber with his index finger.  
  
With a smile, Dimentio placed his lips around Luigi's ankle, causing him to gasp and freeze. Luigi's body was racked by savage tremors of fear as the jester unhurriedly made his way up his leg, taking away the restraining finger. He hazily wondered if he should have passed out from sheer terror already as the hot tongue wrapped itself around his thigh. The sensation of being licked was both titillating and arousing, but was also unbearably terrifying because of what it meant.  
  
Dimentio withdrew and did the same to the other leg, sucking and licking at it. Oppositely, he was wondering if this was giving the little plumber the remotest bit of pleasure. He guessed from Luigi's dazed expression that it might be a mix of both. Either way, he was going to ensure that his victim experienced every second of this. He was certainly having fun himself.  
  
Luigi tried to control his breathing as Dimentio released his leg and flipped him over. He found it impossible as the jester began to slowly, agonizingly pass his tongue along his back and sides. All he could do was close his eyes and weep at the horrid mixture of fear and enjoyment the wet touch brought, and the tingling the glaze of saliva left behind. He started to sob again as Dimentio brushed through his hair and caressed his face, seeking out the salt water.  
  
Once his hair was soaked and his back thoroughly lubricated, he was flipped over again. He couldn't help but watch with horror as the same treatment was given to his chest and arms. His fingers twitched as Dimentio's tongue intertwined with and in between each digit. He sighed as his head was forced back so that his neck could be washed over next, a sloppy pass being delivered to his face every once in a while.  
  
Almost half an hour had passed since the time Luigi had woken up. As the ministrations continued, Luigi passed from tense terror to dull fear. His body relaxed out of its coiled state. He was still so, so scared, but what could he possibly do to save himself? Struggling would do nothing, so his only option was to take it without protest. Every murmur of pleasure Dimentio made sent chills running up and down his spine. Every pass of the slimy muscle drove acceptance in deeper and deeper as the saliva was already working on dissolving him. He managed to let go of memory and family and life, and only experienced for a little while, his nerves jittering with icy sensations.  
  
Dimentio noticed, and let him have that brief moment of loosening. Soon enough though, he sought to rekindle his victim's fear. He stopped, causing Luigi to grow alert again. "You know, I have killed many people before, but never in this way. This fate is chosen especially for you, the special first," Dimentio whispered, his breath passing a cold gale over Luigi's sodden skin. The defenseless man shivered, knowing it was about to go further.  
  
Dimentio bent his fingers around Luigi again, keeping him in a secure hold. "And I must say," Dimentio said huskily. "I'm really enjoying it." He grinned, showing his perfect white teeth before parting his lips and jaw slightly to give Luigi a view.  
  
Luigi stared with paralyzed dread at the pad of Dimentio's tongue and further back to where his uvula dangled above the dark, hungry pit of his throat. Below him, he heard Dimentio's stomach growl demandingly, and began to breathe rapidly in panic, writhing hysterically in the jester's tight grip. Dimentio's lips came forward and lightly kissed the side of his face, lingering there and brushing up against him. "Hush now… None of that…"  
  
Luigi stilled himself obediently, trying not to look past the gate of teeth. He could barely concentrate between that and the breath washing over him, but still had it in him to speak. "P-P-Please! I-I'll d-do anything you w-want!"  
  
Dimentio didn't pause. "Ah, but what if what I want from you is your suffering?"  
  
Luigi closed his eyes, tears falling freely as he felt teeth lightly graze his ear. "I d-don't want it to end this way…  _I don't want to die…_ " he murmured hopelessly.  
  
Dimentio paused, his thoughts jumbling for a moment. "…No one does…" he replied softly, his tone strange. Then, without further hesitation, he took Luigi's whole head into his mouth and focused only on the exquisite terror of his prey.  
  
Suddenly finding himself engulfed in darkness, Luigi yelped, smothered and unable to breathe well. He whimpered when he realized what had happened, frantically attempting to free himself. He was forced to stop when he felt a vice of teeth press painfully into the back of his neck and his collarbone. He cried silently and didn't move again, instead focusing on getting what air he could.  
  
The teeth released him, and the fingers that were wrapped around him straightened. He could feel himself being repositioned so that he was laying flat with Dimentio's palm as his only support. He could move now if he wanted, but made no attempt at escape. The darkness was alleviated as Dimentio parted his jaws somewhat, renewing his view of his destination and sending a fresh pang of fear jangling down his spine. The wet muscle under him deliberately extended out and down to his belly button, lifting him up from the hand a bit. It curled lovingly over his back and withdrew, the soft lips moving from his neck down to the middle of his back as more of him was drawn in.  
  
Luigi grit his teeth and clenched his fists in sudden frustration. Now his shoulders were inside, and he had no doubt the rest of him would follow in due time. To think this was actually happening, his end slowly but surely approaching in a way most people would never have imagined in their wildest dreams! He'd been defenseless from the very start, unable to see this coming and unable to do anything about it once it had begun. Once Dimentio decided to take him, that was it.  
  
The tongue beneath him shifted again, going forward and delivering a sensational pass to his crotch that left his already broken nerves quivering. He moaned, his anger overshadowed by terror as he was brought even further within. He could feel teeth scraping against his abs. Everything below his belly button remained free of the damp cave, but his arms were clamped at his sides. He had already been alarmingly close to it, but now his face was mere inches from the ominous hole in front of him. He could barely see, but he sensed it there, waiting for him. Another growl came from below.  
  
The sound of his heartbeat filled his ears, pounding fast and hard. He had never been so completely terrified in his life. Once again, he lost control of himself and he tensed, intending to bring his hands inside and push himself away from the back of Dimentio's mouth. He was too slow, however, as, before he could do anything, the teeth were there again, pinning him with even more force than the first time. He squeaked in pain, whining quietly until the pressure lightened.  
  
They didn't let go, keeping a light hold of him this time. Dimentio's tongue moved again, and all the saliva around him was suctioned backwards. The part of the muscle his head was lying on moved upwards, bending him backwards a little. With what little light there was, he saw it meet the roof of the jester's mouth as he swallowed the excess liquid. With a flutter of horror, Luigi realized he would have been included in that if not for the vice around his waist.  
  
He was liberated from the toothy grip as the tongue lowered him. It moved out from underneath him and began to work over every bit of him that was inside, applying a fresh coating of lubrication. Luigi lifted his head, trying to keep the sticky spittle out of his mouth and nose. His hair was treated to more conditioning, and he was actually starting to  _feel_  it pervading into his skin.  
  
After a bit, Dimentio's tongue settled down under him once more. He turned his head and laid his cheek down upon it, just trying to breathe. Dimentio moaned, the sound vibrating through his whole frame. Luigi grit his teeth against the loudness of it. Outside, the support of Dimentio's hand disappeared, leaving his legs dangling. The world around him tilted, and he started to slide even further inside. "N-No! Stop!" he cried out. Dimentio laughed.  
  
Luigi felt Dimentio's tongue push him backwards as the lips readjusted around his thighs. He held himself completely still as his face was nudged into the back of the jester's throat. He mewled softly, trying not to believe that he could feel the uvula brushing against the back of his neck. The muscles around him quivered as Dimentio suppressed his gag reflex, and he forgot to breathe.  
  
The world tilted even more, and, to his terror, he started to slip downwards on his own. The tongue lifted and propelled him further in, and he suddenly found himself in the grip of powerful throat muscles as Dimentio swallowed him. He yelled and kicked, but it was already too late. His scream devolved into hysterical sobbing as the muscles caressed him and steadily pulled him down. He felt his hands come inside, but his upper arms were already locked against his sides and he couldn't even begin to try to get himself out.  
  
He started to slow a little and could feel Dimentio quickly licking over his legs. Then, another swallow came, renewing the contractions as he continued his ghastly journey. He wanted to thrash and scream and fight, but the slick muscles around him held him in an uncomfortably tight caress and he couldn't struggle whatsoever. He heard a loud, rapid pounding beside him, a sound which only served to cloud his scattered thoughts further as he went down and down and down...  
  
Dimentio took in Luigi's feet and swallowed again, savoring the feeling of the trembling body that filled his throat. He licked the soles of the feet, enjoying the strange flavor of them a second time. Luigi felt crazed laughter bubble into his chest, but held it back. His sanity was starting to snap, but he wanted to be able to be brave even as his face pushed up against a tightly coiled muscle. Another swallow came from above, and what he knew was a sphincter opened abruptly and released his head into empty air. He coughed and choked on the acidic, musty air, his throat and lungs stinging.  
  
Luigi could feel his feet pass into Dimentio's throat as he was lowered down into a pool of hot liquid. He had no choice but to hold his breath as he was dunked. Bit by bit, his chest and waist followed him, and his head scraped along the bottom of the stomach and up the side, surfacing and letting him breathe again. His legs soon joined him and, finally, his feet were pushed through with a wet squelch.  
  
As his body entered the stomach, he was forced into a fetal position, the stomach acid going up to his hips. He could just barely move his arms and only did so to hug his legs to his chest. He could still hear that loud pounding and realized it was the sound of Dimentio's heart beating above him. It was completely and utterly dark, so he squeezed his eyes shut and rested his chin on his knees, listening with despair to the soft gurgles and groans emanating from his prison.  
  
In here, Luigi could only feel. It was suffocatingly hot, the stomach radiating a heat far more intense than that of a sauna. The walls tightened around him, constricting and locking him into a terrible embrace. They massaged into him, already producing more acid. He could feel it being worked into his skin. It dripped onto his head and back. His sobbing from earlier returned as his skin began to tingle intensely, as if his whole body had fallen asleep. He could barely breathe by now, and was beginning to see spots when there was another gulp. The air became fresher as his air supply was replenished. He cried harder as he realized that Dimentio wasn't just going to let him die from suffocation.  
  
The tingling gradually shifted into sharp little bites of pain. His fingernails dug into his legs as sheer inevitability pressed down upon him. It soon turned into burning stabs, and something in him broke. Luigi started to scream incoherently as the acid ate away at him. It intensified ever further and turned consuming. There was nothing now but the burning. He writhed, but there was no escape. His voice broke, yet still he shrieked. It continued to get worse and worse, and the pain passed a threshold within him. As wave after wave of agony poured over him, his consciousness dimmed, unable to take any more, until finally, mercifully, blackness closed over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Congrats, you made it to the end of chapter one! What a way to start off, eh?  
> Now. *takes out therapist chair* Tell me how you feel.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

2  
  
It had been annoyingly easy to find the man in green. It had been even easier to pluck him from his home. It seemed it was true that Mario left his younger brother home alone most of the time while he went off and adventured. It didn't take much more than a little magic to put him to sleep and bring him to Dimension D.  
  
It was a little infuriating, really. But it did give him time to relax and think out the rest of his revenge carefully. There were so many people on his hit list; his cohorts from the castle as well as the heroes of light. The amount of time he wanted to spend on each of them varied, but the count and Mario had the longest "appointments".  
  
He stopped pacing around his study and sat in a chair, looking over at the corner where Luigi was still passed out on the floor. He'd chosen Luigi to go first, simply because he considered him the least deserving of his attention and wanted to work his way up from the small fry to the bigger fish, or at least those were the reasons he had come up with. He hadn't really thought about what to do to him, though.  
  
Dimentio turned the chair around and sat in it backwards, crossing his arms on the back of it and resting his chin on them as he stared into space. He ruminated on his favorite methods of torturing and killing, but they all seemed rather used up today. He'd just come back from the dead, he should be able to be more creative than that.  
  
There was one idea that he almost discarded. It was something he'd considered experimenting with, but could never do because it didn't fit with the conditions of most of his mercenary contracts and he rarely killed anyone just for fun. He realized that there was nothing stopping him from trying it out today. It was genius, really. There couldn't be a more intimate way to have control over someone. It was fortunate he'd skipped breakfast this morning in favor of kidnapping Luigi.  
  
Grinning, he stood and strode over to the unconscious man, looking him over critically. Yes, this would work. Luigi was already an easy person to terrify, and that would make it even more fun. Idea set, he busied himself undressing the plumber, folding his green shirt and blue overalls into a neat pile, and removing his hat, gloves, shoes, and socks. He hesitated when it came to the boxers, but decided what the heck. He had seen plenty of naked people, after all.  
  
Luigi was nothing special to look at. He had a lightly toned physique that he obviously didn't have to work to keep. He had a few scars here and there on his slightly-tanned skin, but not as many as Dimentio suspected Mario had. He felt a brief stirring of memory, of an all-too-short time when Luigi had been someone else entirely. He shook those thoughts away. Mr. L was gone. It was his fault he was.  
  
With a huff, Dimentio straightened, leaving the clothes where they were as he touched his thumb to his middle finger. With a snap, he focused his thoughts and bent the magic in the air around him to his bidding. Luigi started to shrink, growing smaller and smaller until he was just under eight inches tall.  
  
With a satisfied smirk, he removed his own gloves and put them in his pocket, then bent down and scooped Luigi up, cupping the man's fragile body with both his bare hands. Dimentio's heart fluttered a little, feeling a wave of satisfaction come over him. He never grew used to the feeling of having complete control over another being's life. Luigi was especially vulnerable, his new size all but destroying his chances of defending himself or getting out of the situation.  
  
Dimentio walked over to his cherry wood desk and gently set the miniature man down, snapping his fingers and sending everything else upon it away to another room to be put back later. An ecstatic laugh bubbled out of him as he examined the innocently sleeping victim. He set it into memory, the completely relaxed features of the man in green, before they became warped by fear and despair.  
  
He released the magic keeping Luigi asleep and sat back down in his chair, leaning back and folding his arms. He trembled ever so slightly with the new excitement coursing through him as he waited…  
  


* * *

  
After a few minutes, Luigi began to wake up naturally. Dimentio leaned forward and folded his hands under his chin, soundlessly making himself invisible so as not to disturb his prey's first discoveries. He watched with a wide grin as Luigi sat up and groaned. The plumber looked over the edge of the desk and Dimentio saw the moment he realized he was trapped up there. As Luigi began to pace around in confusion, the jester became visible once more and got his attention. Another pang of glee passed through him when he saw the plumber's crystal blue eyes widen in shock and fear.  
  
It didn't take Luigi long to ask what was going on. He replied with the truth, and again watched the hapless man's expression change as his helplessness impressed itself upon him. Luigi nodded grimly, respectably accepting the simple truth of the matter.  
  
Then came the subject of what was going to happen to him. It was easier to show him than to explain, so he bent down and tasted him for the first time. He shivered with delight, finding that Luigi tasted positively exquisite, much better than expected. He licked his lips and there it was, the few seconds that he lived for, the beautiful recognition and understanding of one's fate and the inability to change it. He contentedly watched Luigi tuck his head into his knees and cry. It was too bad none of the others would react in such a pleasing way.  
  
Dimentio should have expected it when Luigi asked for mercy; not for himself, but for the others. Blinking, he laughed and again answered with the truth. He suddenly sobered and again licked the poor plumber, feeling every detail of his face with his tongue. He hummed, enjoying the salty taste of tears and letting his more predatory instincts surface.  
  
After he had stopped, Luigi curled up into a shivering ball, and he felt a slight stirring of a much different instinct. Instead of listening to it, he continued, reaching out and picking up the shrunken man with one hand. Luigi's immediate reaction was to try to escape. He tightened his grip, which forced him to stop writhing as the air was squeezed out of him.  
  
Luigi fell still, and he let off some of the pressure. This was much different than when he had held him before. Instead of limp stillness, he could feel Luigi's chest heaving with his breathing and the panicked spasms of his body. He could even feel Luigi's tiny fingers digging into his palm as he looked up at him, face pale and tear-trails glistening on his cheeks. He opened his hand, running his nose along the small body as he inhaled. Luigi smelled of sweat and adrenaline and man. He felt miniscule hands push weakly at his mask, a clear sign that Luigi wasn't enjoying the invasion. It was too bad for him, because there was about to be a lot more of it.  
  
Curious, Dimentio decided to start with Luigi's feet, knowing that a lot of different things built up there. Licking the soles of his feet, he discovered a strange concoction of various flavors. Oh, Luigi didn't like this prelude at all, as he started squirming again, something easily fixed by pushing him down with one finger. Dimentio didn't need any more encouragement to put the man's whole foot in his mouth, an action which made Luigi gasp and go completely still in fear. As he progressed to the whole leg, he took his finger away, knowing Luigi would likely stay paralyzed at this point.  
  
He hadn't really planned on toying with him this much, but he'd already discovered a real enjoyment of his taste and his reactions. It was simply too hard to resist drawing things out. So he leisurely did the other leg, sucking on it and thinking about whether or not he would be enjoying this if he were to be in the opposite position.  
  
He continued licking Luigi for almost half an hour, slowly working over the plumber's whole body with relish. It was amazing how much detail he was taking in through his tongue, feeling every bump, hair, and crevice on the plumber's body. He was right, as Luigi fell into a surrender and simply took it, his eyes glazing over. Dimentio sighed internally, knowing he would have to fix that. He stopped and whispered to the now-alert man, cleverly thinking to give him a view first before the real event began.  
  
It was with an odd fluttering of his heart that he gently kissed Luigi's cheek and hushed him, lingering there a little too long. Again, the plumber tried to beg, but it wasn't until he hopelessly mumbled that he didn't want to die did Dimentio's haze of pleasure clear slightly. He knew death better than any other living being. He knew what it was like to be in Luigi's place, looking death in the face with no alternative. He got rid of such thoughts by moving on, suddenly deciding to insert Luigi's whole head into his mouth.  
  
He heard Luigi whimper and had to press down on him with his teeth to get him to stop struggling. Once he was still, he rewarded him by letting go of him and letting a little light in. He adjusted his hold on him, laying him out on his palm with the other cupped beneath in case he fell somehow. He stretched out his tongue, briefly supporting most of the man's weight on it and reaching around to his back before drawing him in further, moving his lips down a little to the middle of his back.  
  
He felt Luigi's whole body coil tightly and saw his fists clench. He was clearly feeling helplessly frustrated, and it was so delightful. He chased the tense feeling away by extending his tongue again and licking over his crotch with a mental chuckle. He could easily make this a thing of pleasure if he wanted to. After all, it must be an incredible sensation. It all felt amazing to him, and he was sad he hadn't tried this sooner.  
  
He shifted his lips again, letting his lower teeth touch lightly on the man's stomach. He could feel Luigi's head resting on the point where his tongue began to slope downwards into his throat. Luigi tensed, preparing to try something, and he quickly shut down that notion by biting him again and with more force. He let him whimper in pain for a few seconds before easing up.  
  
Feeling a lot of excess saliva sloshing around in his mouth, he decided to get rid of it so that he wouldn't choke. Holding Luigi securely with his teeth, he swallowed, feeling Luigi shudder violently as the action happened right in front of him. The jester hesitated, deciding he wanted a little more of his ethereal taste before sending him on to his doom.  
  
He moaned in anticipation once the time came. He couldn't exactly take his time once he began, but he could do more to build up Luigi's own anticipation. He let go of Luigi's legs and left them to dangle, then tilted his head back so that he began to slide forward with gravity's force alone. He heard Luigi once again desperately ask him to stop and laughed at the foolishness of the request.  
  
He pushed Luigi back with his tongue, moving his lips past his buttocks down to his thighs. There was now enough of him in his mouth that he could feel the alluring feeling of Luigi's face pressing lightly into the back of his throat. He immediately had the urge to gag, but resisted until it subsided. Now was the point of no return. With only a slight pause, he tilted his head further so that Luigi's body was pointed nearly straight down. Gravity started to drag him into his throat, and he couldn't help but swallow. Luigi's body jerked forward as the throat muscles grabbed hold of his head and shoulders. Luigi let out a strangled yell which quickly dissolved into terrified sobbing.  
  
Dimentio pointedly ignored the pitiful sound and the slight wriggling feeling it produced in his gut. He quickly lathered up Luigi's legs before swallowing again, feeling the plumber tremble inside of him. He raised a hand and placed his fingers at his collarbone, lightly touching the place where Luigi's head currently resided on the other side of the powerful muscles. He swallowed a third time, taking in Luigi's feet and enjoying the taste of the soles once more, ironically the place where he had started and the place where he would finish up. He could feel Luigi's body move slowly downwards with his fingers.  
  
It took several more gulps for his prey to disappear completely inside of him. He could even feel it as Luigi slowly entered his stomach and moved around a bit! Dimentio let out a small burp, quickly realizing that he needed to provide his prey with an air supply if he wanted him to last longer. He swallowed some air periodically, listening as Luigi's quiet keening turned into screams of pain and despair and feeling a slight tickling as he tried to escape it all.  
  
Something strange happened. As the screaming turned more and more anguished, Dimentio's smile fell into a frown. He'd heard this screaming twice before, one the biggest mistake he'd ever made, and the other his attempt at fixing it. Again, he was reminded of the one person he'd ever remotely trusted, of the one person he had dared to call a friend.  
  
He heard it when Luigi's voice cracked and grew hoarse. He suddenly found himself questioning what he had just done. He had killed that one special person. He could never hope to bring them back. What did this pit in his stomach mean? Why didn't he feel happy anymore?  
  
Luigi's cries began to quiet, and his movements ceased. Dimentio began to feel a distinct pinprick of panic. He had to make a decision right this second. The fact that he was even questioning himself… With a gasp, he realized that it all felt like the same mistake all over again. His stomach clenched painfully, and he immediately jabbed a finger down his throat and triggered his gag reflex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats, we have reached the end of the gross! Trust me, there was a purpose to having the same thing again from a different POV, and now we'll be moving on to something new next week.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! If you wanted to avoid the gross and skipped to here, then welcome to the fic. I'm sure you can figure out what happened via context. Anyhoo, our bus has passed into Emotionland, so I hope you all enjoy our first stop.

3

Everything was dark for a long time. He dreamed, but the memories called forth grew darker and darker until they weren't dreams but rather nightmares. It felt like everything was too hot, and he just wanted to scream and scream and scream. In time, he fell back to complete unconsciousness again. For an eternity, he faded in and out of dreaming, his consciousness refusing to get any closer to true awareness. Again and again, he fell into nightmares of heat and feeling trapped. Sometimes it was wet, and sometimes it was loud, but always it was terrifying. Always there was the musical laugh of the one who haunted him.  
  
Reality was hard to discern. Sometimes he thought he was awake, but it was only an old memory. Sometimes, he dreamed of things that were familiar but strange, things he didn't really remember experiencing. He dreamed of dark hallways and smiling friends and loneliness.  
  
As time passed, the haze fell away bit by bit, and Luigi returned to himself. He was first aware of heat. Every breath he took made it sizzle, and then he was aware of pain. Everywhere hurt. Each dull heartbeat produced a sharp reply from his nerves. He was unable to scream.  
  
He had been awake for some time now, but had not gathered himself. He fell asleep for a few minutes, and came back with a better awareness of himself. He remembered what had happened, or at least the notion of it, for his mind had locked away its true remembrance. He must be dead. He hurt so much, he must be. He didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want to see what next world he had gone to, where pain was still a possibility.  
  
But he did open them, and was once more met with a garishly bright green color. Confused, he simply stared at it, hoping that whoever made hell had bad taste. He couldn't be… He…He couldn't still be in… He shuddered involuntarily and was met by another wave of agony. He fell unconscious briefly, but everything was still the same when he returned to the surface again. He was still breathing. He could feel the air aggravating the tenderness of his throat and lungs.  
  
It felt like something heavy was sitting on top of him. He couldn't even move his head to look around. There was a clock somewhere in the room. He could hear it ticking. Time passed with an unbearable slowness.  
  
The ticking stuttered, and he realized he'd slept again. He heard the soft sound of a door opening, and his heartbeat immediately accelerated in fear. He began to breathe in short pants, the change upsetting the fragile balance his body had adapted to. He moaned and closed his eyes, wanting to shut the world out.  
  
His heart skipped a beat when something wet touched his face. It was a moment before he realized it was cold and not hot. He could sense someone standing right beside him. They gently dabbed a damp washcloth over his face, providing a slight but much needed relief to the way his body felt. There was the sound of the cloth being wrung out and dipped into water. Then it was placed on his forehead and left there.  
  
Luigi calmed a little, trying to rationalize. Maybe someone had come to save him, or…or… Yes, someone must have saved him, that was it. B-But… Who could have possibly stood up to the jester? For crying out loud, the demon had escaped death itself, and who knew what kind of power he was capable of wielding! He whimpered, still keeping his eyes firmly shut.  
  
He heard the creak of a chair as someone sat in it. He could hear them quietly breathing if he strained hard enough. The tick of the clock pounded itself madly into his mind. He tried to learn anything else, to get any other sensory information at all, but there was nothing.  
  
Finally, he gave in and opened his eyes, staring up and up at the ugly ceiling. After a few moments, there was movement just outside his field of vision. He cringed when he felt fingers brush the back of his head. They lifted him up a little into a more upright position, and the shifting of his body made him faint again.  
  
When he came to, he was still sitting up. He felt the pillows that had been placed behind him to prop him up, and could see his own body outlined under a blanket in front of him. It felt far heavier than it probably was. He saw that there was a clear plastic tube snaked under the blanket, heading in the direction of his left arm. An IV.  
  
There wasn't much else to see. Every time he tried to move, he was met with a rushing torrent of fire and dizziness. It was no wonder he'd dreamed of being on fire. His whole body felt like it was. Why… Why had he been inflicted with this? What had he done to deserve this?  
  
He felt sobs creeping up his chest and pushed them down. It would really hurt to cry like that, so he only allowed silent tears to escape as he listened to the ticking clock. That person was still there, a person he desperately didn't want to think about. He couldn't turn his head to look at them. But he didn't need to. They came to him.  
  
After what felt like hours, they moved at last. Again, they infuriatingly stayed just past where he could see. There was the sound of water being poured from behind him, and he suddenly realized he was incredibly thirsty. His throat ached.  
  
And then there he was. He had held on to the faintest wisp of the hope of rescue, but it evaporated as soon as he saw the devil himself walk over and stand by his legs. The black and white comic's mask loomed over him, its expression curiously blank. Luigi closed his eyes, a low despairing moan escaping him. Something pressed up against his lips, and he opened them again.  
  
Dimentio was holding a glass of water out for him. He started to tremble again, hissing with the pain it brought. The water was going to be taken away as soon as he tried to drink it. He knew it. Dimentio had decided he wasn't done with him. Maybe he had taken up his offer and was going to torture him forever.  
  
He couldn't read the jester's expression. For once, the mocking smile was gone, and there was nothing in his porcelain gaze. The glass was offered again, insistently, and, damn him, he drank. He would have gulped the water down, if Dimentio hadn't prevented that by tilting the glass only gradually, forcing him to drink it slowly. At least it hadn't been taken away after all. The water was cool, and very much refreshing. It was probably spiked with something.  
  
The jester nodded to himself, as if in approval, then moved away to pour another glass. He came back and sat on the edge of the bed this time, instead of standing and leaning over his patient. Luigi drank the second glass too and sighed, shutting his exhausted eyes. He listened to his own ragged breathing for a while.  
  
He didn't remember feeling the jester stand up, but when he next opened them, Dimentio wasn't there. There was only ticking until he heard the door open. He purposefully tried to keep himself calm as footsteps came towards him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the jester change the bag of whatever it was he was hooked up to.  
  
Dimentio left his field of vision again, going behind him. Again, he heard a cloth being dipped in water and wrung out. Then Dimentio moved in front of him and placed it on his forehead, taking the old one away. He almost didn't recognize the jester, because he wasn't wearing his player's costume, but rather a pair of frayed jeans and a purple long-sleeved shirt. Wild black hair fell across the temples of his mask in messy locks.  
  
Dimentio leaned over and put the old rag on the table behind him. He didn't move away, and Luigi could feel the jester stare at him. He looked everywhere else, but eventually had to meet Dimentio's mismatched gaze. It held none of the playfulness and power it had earlier. He seemed subdued…cautious. There was no malice. The change made Luigi uneasy.  
  
He tried to speak, to break the unholy silence, but only ended up going into a coughing fit instead. Gasping sobs escaped him as pain tore through him. When it faded and he could think again, Dimentio was silently offering him another glass of water. He drank it with guilty relief. Oh, how much he wanted to be able to take it without assistance! Sparks of hate flared up inside him. " _…Why_?" he hoarsely asked. "Was it not enough for you?!"  
  
Dimentio didn't reply, his blank expression unchanging.  
  
"Why do you think I deserve this much?!" He was crying now, tears leaving a stinging trail across his face. "I-I'm not some plaything…"  
  
Dimentio said nothing.  
  
"I-I… W-Why… Why couldn't you just kill me… What are you going to do to me now…" he whispered, anger already being replaced by despair. He was still helpless, in a different way. He cried softly despite the pain it caused, no longer able to contain his emotions.  
  
Dimentio's only response was to gently wipe away Luigi's tears with his thumb. The plumber found himself looking into the jester's eyes again. With a gasp he saw that they weren't yellow and gray, as he had always thought, but rather blue, the same crystal blue of his own.

* * *

  
He remembered, and still had no answers.

* * *

  
_He threw up violently all over his desk. With a jagged groan, he vomited again, bringing Luigi up and barely managing to catch him in his hands. Breathing heavily, he magicked the vomit away and set Luigi down on the desk as gently as he had earlier to assess his condition. His whole body was covered in burns, his hair and mustache all but gone. He was unconscious but still breathing in shallow pants. He was oozing blood and wouldn't live for much longer unless he did something._  
  
_He took a calming breath, not daring to go into the reasons behind his lapse into mercy at the moment. He mentally checked over the contents of his medicine cabinet and teleported them to his torture chamber. With a pass of his hands, he got rid of the acid still covering his unconscious victim and began imparting some healing magic into him. He had never been very good at that particular kind of magic, and could really only transfer his own strength to the subject. As such, he could only do so much. Just healing the burns partway left him on shaky legs, but he was able to pay special attention to Luigi's head, hands, and crotch to try and ensure they were unmarred._  
  
_He carefully picked up Luigi again and walked clumsily to the torture chamber. Healing when he was tiny required less energy, but in order to give him proper medical attention, he needed to reverse the spell he had cast earlier. He laid the stricken plumber down on the medically sterile metal table he liked to use for torture, pushing aside his instruments of pain and gathering up the medical supplies. He snapped his fingers, and Luigi regrew to his original size. He hissed under his breath as the depth of the man's injuries became apparent._  
  
_They were certainly nasty burns, and went deeper than he had originally thought. Steeling himself, he passed his hands over the injuries and used more healing magic. Once the burns looked a little better, he stopped, feeling the drain immensely. Shaking away his dizziness, he kept his focus and bandaged up the unconscious plumber as best he could, using what salves he had to aid his body in healing._  
  
_Finally, his work was complete. He teleported them both to his bedroom, setting Luigi down on the bed and covering him with a light blanket. He got himself a chair and sat down heavily. He didn't know if Luigi's body could take such grievous injury and be able to survive through it. Now that he had a moment, he thought. He didn't understand how he had come to this decision. Luigi was not Mr. L, nor would he ever be again. The mental construct that had made up the gentleman thief's being had shattered when he died. So where had this mercy come from? Why did he feel like he had when he killed Mr. L?_  
  
_With unanswered questions circling round and round in his mind, he had little choice but to wait once again…_  
  
Dimentio watched for a long time. After the first day, he felt confident that Luigi would pull through. But he had to be careful, because even the slightest infection could send him back to the brink of death. He used what healing magic he was able to, exhausting himself physically. Mentally, he was also exhausted, because he couldn't get these damn questions out of his head, and he didn't dare rest yet.  
  
The next day, he changed the bandages, hooking Luigi up to an IV as he did so. He wasn't sure of what he was doing. He had only ever practiced medicine on himself, and he had never been badly burned. He hoped his magic would prevent the underlying muscles from being permanently damaged. He didn't know why, but he wanted to bring back that sprightly young man he had seen energetically bounding after his brother. No…that was a lie. What he truly wanted was the masked man, the one who so bravely surpassed his own fears and consistently pissed everyone off. But that could never be.  
  
Dimentio started to become worried again when Luigi didn't wake up after a few days. His eyes moved under his carefully repaired eyelids as he dreamed but they did not open. He didn't like the feeling of worry, the uneasy way it burrowed under his skin. He felt Luigi's forehead and found it burning with fever. He watched, barely sleeping and only eating a little, trying to keep the fever at bay with cool washcloths.  
  
Luigi was unconscious for eight days, the fever breaking on the morning of the eighth. He hadn't been present when Luigi became aware again. He saw it when he returned to the bedroom, saw Luigi's breathing speed up with fear. He heard a soft moan. He set down the bowl and cloths he'd been carrying on the table at the head of the bed, deciding it was best to stay out of Luigi's sight for now. He wet one of the rags and carefully washed Luigi's face, feeling him flinch. He rinsed it in the water and folded it, placing it on Luigi's forehead. The fever was mostly gone, but it must still help some. He heard Luigi whimper and felt that unknowable thing bother him once again.  
  
Dimentio sat in his chair and waited. After a long time, Luigi finally opened his eyes. Still staying where he couldn't be seen, Dimentio crept over to him. He lifted Luigi's head, trying to be gentle, but he still fainted and fell limp against his hand. Dimentio paused, but slid a few small pillows under the injured man's shoulders to prop him up.  
  
He waited again. When Luigi came to, all he saw in his eyes was a pure and terrible despair. He didn't get up at first, pondering the other's emotions. Trying  _empathy_  for the first time in a dreadfully long time. He hated the way these things made him feel. He didn't understand. He was terrified. No, he could never answer these questions himself.  
  
He heard Luigi's raspy breathing as he tried to look around. That's right, he had sat him up so that he could drink something. He picked up the waiting glass of water and went over to Luigi's side. He moaned again, not with pain this time, and tried to block out the sight of him. Dimentio pressed the glass against the man's blistered lips. Luigi opened his eyes, and the jester felt the force of the thoughts behind the gaze. He kept his expression carefully blank, completely unsure of what emotion he was supposed to make the mask express. He offered the water again, and Luigi drank. He poured a second glass and helped him to drink that too. He did not give him a third. More would likely make him sick.  
  
Luigi fell asleep, exhaustion overtaking him. Dimentio left and felt that it would be ok to take a shower and get a change of clothes. He discarded his jester's garb, disliking the dirty feel of it. He put on what he called "normal people clothes" and went back to the room. He changed the IV bag and the washcloth, feeling Luigi watch him. He didn't cringe away, but looked at his patient's face. It was healing the best thanks to the care he had given it. Luigi avoided his gaze for a while, but eventually met it.  
  
The plumber attempted to say something, but started coughing instead. He gasped with agony as the coughing fit jolted his body. Dimentio unhurriedly filled another glass with water and had it ready for him when the fit subsided. 

" _…Why?_ " he asked, voice still broken and hoarse, blue eyes trying to pierce him. "Was it not enough for you?!"  
  
Dimentio didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.  
  
"Why do you think I deserve this much?! I-I'm not some plaything…"  
  
He was crying, tears trickling as he tried to express himself. Dimentio was beginning to understand what he was thinking.  
  
"I-I… W-Why… Why couldn't you just kill me… What are you going to do now…"  
  
That confirmed it. Luigi thought he was only healing him so he could hurt him again. That would have been true a week ago. It was something he had begged for, that the others be left alone in exchange for his own suffering.  
  
Dimentio had no idea how to assuage these fears. He settled for gently wiping Luigi's tears away with a thumb, though they continued to flow. Luigi looked into his eyes again, beautiful blue eyes clouded. Dimentio felt the urge to return their gaze more truthfully. He took a deep breath and released the illusion on his mask that made his eyes look mismatched, something he had only done once before. He let Luigi see their true color, a color that was similar to his own only icier.  
  
Dimentio felt his heart squeeze in a strange, painful way. He broke the trance by looking down at the floor. He needed to go, now, before his disorientation caused him to do something else he would regret. He walked over to the door, magically turning the brightness of the room down so that Luigi could sleep. He paused in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder at the broken plumber. Earlier, when Luigi was shivering and helpless before him, he had felt a faint stirring of something. It was stronger now that he wasn't ignoring it anymore. It had been the urge to  _comfort_ …to  _protect_.  
  
"…I couldn't do it…" he said so softly that Luigi almost didn't catch it. The door closed with a quiet click.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous comments have been turned off. Apparently it's too much to ask people not to be shitty.

  
4  
  
Luigi didn't fall asleep, not right away. Because of the few things he had learned, he had no choice but to think about the questions circling round and round in his mind. He appreciated the darkness, but the ticking was going to drive him insane. Each tock felt like a needle stabbing into his fragmented brain. He wondered if Dimentio even knew it was bothering him, and guessed it might just be intentional.  
  
He was wondering a lot of things, really. Why didn't the jester just kill him as he said he was going to? Why was he nursing him back to health now? He didn't feel as sure of Dimentio's intentions as he had when he first woke up.  
  
_I couldn't do it._  …What the hell did that mean?! That he couldn't kill him? Not yet? Not until he'd toyed with him more? What?!  
  
_Tick tock._  Why had Dimentio looked so tired? If he wasn't wearing a mask, he could have sworn there would be dark circles under his eyes. Speaking of… They were blue? They had been…subdued, gentle even.  _He_  had been gentle. He could have caused Luigi a lot of pain just by touching him, but he hadn't.  
  
Something nagged at him; a fact. Dimentio's real eye color hadn't been as much of a surprise as it should have been. He had known it already, somewhere in the back of his mind.  _How had he known it already?!_  
  
_Tick tock tick tock._  He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be at home, free of pain. He wanted to forget all this, to not think about what was in his future.  
  
_Tick tock TICK TOCK._  He tried to push the horrible memories away. He shuddered, eyes glazing over and remembering anyway. He had never felt so helpless. He had been utterly powerless to fight. He had been reduced to nothing but food. He blinked. No, it wasn't like that anymore, not at the moment. He was still helpless, but in a different way. He might even be able to fight if he could bear the pain.  
  
He calmed his breathing. He couldn't think about this anymore. He couldn't take it. He turned his thoughts to happier times, times adventuring with his brother, hanging out with friends, having parties and tournaments and quiet afternoons. It made him horribly homesick, but it helped.  
  
He tuned out the clock, eyelids fluttering shut. He slept.  


* * *

  
When he next woke, it was still dark in the room. He didn't know what time it was. The clock was somewhere behind him.  
  
It wasn't as bad as before. The pain was only a dull throbbing at the moment. He felt calm for the first time since waking up here. He listened to his breathing as he mulled over questions and statements. Words were his only weapon right now. He needed to use them wisely in order to get information. He wanted to know why Dimentio had spared him, and what he was planning to do with him next. He wasn't going to like the answer, but he just wanted to stop wondering about it.  
  
He started to become agitated once more, the clock getting to him. He didn't manage to fall asleep again.  


* * *

  
It felt like forever before Dimentio entered the room. As Dimentio turned up the light and set down some things on the table beside the head of the bed, he croaked out, "The clock…"  
  
"Hmm?" Dimentio leaned over him, head cocked questioningly.  
  
"Make it stop…please…"  
  
Dimentio blinked and looked at the offending clock. "Oh, I see." He snapped his fingers, and the ticking mercifully disappeared.  
  
Luigi let out a long sigh, ignoring the twinge in his abdomen it caused with difficulty. The pain was starting to ratchet up to unbearable levels. His hands were unconsciously trembling.  
  
Dimentio gave him some water to drink before asking, "Did you sleep any?"  
  
"A little…" Luigi closed his eyes, breathing shallowly. "What did you mean?"  
  
Dimentio fell silent.  
  
"…W-What are you going to do with me? I h-have to know…"  
  
"…Nothing."  
  
He opened his eyes. "W-What?"  
  
Dimentio nodded unsurely to himself. "Yes, nothing…"  
  
Luigi searched his face and found only the same careful blank expression as yesterday. His eyes were gray and yellow again. "…I don't…understand…"  
  
Dimentio barked out a single, bitter laugh. "I don't either." He shook his head and looked at his shoes.  
  
Luigi stared at him incredulously. "…Y-You're messing with me."  
  
The jester smiled, just slightly. "I'm not really trying to. …You're not going to like this though."  
  
"Wh-What?" Luigi's blue eyes widened in fear. His heart sped up, sending a wave of pain through him with each pulse.  
  
Dimentio sighed. "It must be done." He gently pulled away the blanket covering Luigi, and the plumber forgot to breathe altogether. His entire body was wrapped in bandages. He blinked away tears, now breathing erratically.  
  
Dimentio hesitated for a moment, taking in his expression. Then, he snapped his fingers, causing Luigi's body to levitate an inch or two into the air. The jester started to unwind the wrappings around his neck, ignoring the plumber's internal agony.  
  
Luigi started to sob. "Y-You… What did you do to me!? Oh god…" He shut his eyes tightly.  
  
Dimentio bit back the words that crept onto his tongue and finished unraveling the bandages in silence.  
  
Unable to avoid the temptation, Luigi looked at himself, the tears coming steadily. Every bit of him that he could see was burned, his skin covered in angry red blisters. He remembered the fire, and barely stayed conscious.  
  
Dimentio stiffly picked up a washcloth and a pail of cold water from the table. Luigi had lost the ability to pay attention. He wet the cloth and lightly dabbed at Luigi's chest, hearing the plumber hiss in response. He cleaned the wounds quickly but carefully, clearing away blood and pus.  
  
Luigi fainted at some point, and when he came to Dimentio was winding a fresh bandage around one of his legs. Every touch caused him to whimper in anguish.  
  
Finally, Dimentio wrapped the last one around his neck. He stopped the levitation, letting Luigi slowly sink back onto the sheets. He put the things he'd used down on the floor and, after a moment, asked, "Can you move your hands?"  
  
Luigi could barely breathe, let alone move at all. Dimentio loomed over him. "Come now, try," he said, and Luigi felt the jester take his left hand in one of his own. Wait, he could actually feel that without it hurting? He blinked, trying to clear away some of the fog in his mind. He could see that his hands were free and relatively unmarked. There was only the slightest hint of scarlet irritation on them. He frowned, and realized his face didn't bother him that much either.  
  
Dimentio felt the light twitch of Luigi's index finger. He let go and turned away. "Ok, good…" Next, he placed his hands upon the injured man's left foot. He'd only begun to attend to them two days ago, and they still needed repairing. He began to magically heal them, strengthening ligaments and muscles. Luigi howled. It hurt, almost worse than the burns themselves.  
  
Dimentio did the right foot, but not for as long. He stopped, the glow of his hands fading away, and leaned on the nearby chair for support. After his legs had stopped shaking, he sat down in it to catch his breath. A minute later, he slowly got a clean washcloth and dipped it into the second bucket of water he had brought, then scooted the chair forward and began to clean Luigi's face.  
  
Like yesterday, he was exceedingly delicate about it. Luigi closed his eyes. It felt kind of nice, the cool water a balm. His heart rate finally slowed down to a calmer level as the sweat and tears were all wiped away. Once done, the jester cleansed the cloth, squeezed it out, and placed it on his patient's forehead. "Done…" he said softly under his breath.  
  
He replaced the bag on the IV and let some of it into Luigi's system. Luigi stared up at the green ceiling with half-lidded eyes as the pain dulled significantly. Dimentio had given him medicine? Didn't he want him to be in pain all the time?  
  
Resting, Dimentio watched the plumber's breathing. After a few minutes, he left, bringing the dirty water and washcloths with him and leaving Luigi alone with his thoughts once more.  


* * *

  
Dimentio came back about an hour later, with a bowl of something in one hand and a pitcher of fresh water in the other. Luigi seemed to be doing ok, physically at least, so he thought it was time to try some form of nourishment. He really had no idea what the plumber's mental state was right now, but it couldn't have been good. He must be horridly fragile. Really, his own mental state was pretty bad, too. He'd lived without these unfamiliar feelings for a long time. He was still no closer to figuring them out.  
  
Luigi turned his head a little to follow his progress across the room. The pain killer was helping, then. He sat in his chair and moved it closer, his knees scraping against the side of the bed. Luigi seemed to be awake and alert, but he said nothing.  
  
Also remaining silent, the jester began spoon-feeding him. Luigi was reluctant to take it at first, until he discovered it was only chicken broth. Luigi never stopped staring at his mask, making him feel uncomfortable. After the broth was done, he gave him some water to chase away the saltiness.  
  
He set everything aside. Like his hands, Luigi's face was much more healed than the rest of him. It had a little further to go, though. It had cost him a lot to reconstruct the cartilage of his ears and nose, and he'd barely worked on the scalp at all. Luigi would be unable to grow hair if he let it heal and scar naturally.  
  
So he leaned forward and put his hands on the top of Luigi's head, spreading his fingers out and laying his palms flat. He saw Luigi's crystal blue eyes widen in fear. This time, he was able to watch them fill with pain as the magic did its work. He felt another one of those accursed pangs strike his heart. Without warning, his legs wobbled under him, and he had to abruptly stop as he collapsed backwards into the chair.  
  
He'd pushed himself too hard this time. Blackness swirled at the edges of his vision, and he fell unconscious.  
  
Luigi became aware of the jester's labored breathing and looked at him, completely surprised to see he was slumped over into the chair, his head tilted back and his pale neck exposed. He didn't know whether or not to wish for something to stab it with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wheezing*  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

5  
  
He waited.  
  
"What do you want with me? W-Where am I?"  
  
"Good evening, Mr. L."  
  
"N-No, that's not-"  
  
Screaming.  
  
"Cooperate, and save yourself the pain, Mr. L."  
  
"H-How do you know my name?"  
  
"I told you already. We found you unconscious in the castle and brought you here to recover. The only reason you are locked up is for our own safety."  
  
"Oh, y-yeah… Are you sure? T-That doesn't seem quite right…"  
  
The man's doubts were extinguished by a blaze of pain.  
  
"Let's try again. Who are you?"  
  
"M-Mr. L…"  
  
"That's right. And how did you get here?"  
  
"I… Y-You s-s-saved me."  
  
"Good. Count Bleck will be pleased with your progress. It's not very easy to recover from amnesia, you know."  
  
"C-Can I come out now?"  
  
"Mmm… We'll see."  
  
The door closed.  
  
"…P-Please don't leave me alone in here…"  
  
He watched, and he smiled.  
  


* * *

  
The jester's only movement was the soft rising and falling of his chest. More than five minutes had passed, though Luigi had no way of knowing that. Why on earth had he just collapsed like that?  
  
There was a quiet groan, signifying Dimentio's return to consciousness. He raised his head and put his hand on his forehead, as if it ached. He sat up a little straighter, but still looked very weary.  
  
"W-What's wrong with you?" Luigi asked, staring at him.  
  
Dimentio gave a little start, as if he'd forgotten he was there. "…What?"  
  
"You fainted…" Luigi supplied, forehead creased in thought.  
  
"Oh, so I did…" Dimentio said, a touch dreamily. With slow, careful movements, he stood and left the room.  
  
Luigi noticed that his balance appeared to be shot. He watched the door close and returned to staring at the ceiling. Something was wrong with his captor. He could use that. However, if something happened to Dimentio, it would mean bad things for him. He wasn't capable of caring for himself right now.  
  
He tried to move his fingers again. Maybe they twitched. He felt a bit better now after the broth. That was good… Oh, who was he kidding? He was still trapped, still incapable of fight or flight, still at the mercy of his worst nightmare. Even if he could get past Dimentio, there was no escape from this dimension. He tried not to cry as he mulled over the fact that Dimentio still had full control over his life.  
  
He puzzled over the reasons Dimentio had changed his plans. He puzzled over possible explanations for Dimentio's apparent illness. He puzzled over the gentleness of his ministrations. Even when he was being tortured, it hadn't really hurt, not until the end. He suppressed a shudder. He could think all he wanted, but he was never going to be able to answer any of these questions. He was sorely in need of something to occupy him. It was unfortunate he was alone.  
  


* * *

  
Dimentio had to stop to lean against the wall to the left of his bedroom door. He  _actually_  needed to catch his breath. There were many, many, many answers to the question of what was wrong with him, but this particular answer was no mystery to him. He had used too much magic. To put it simply, he was just plain bloody exhausted.  
  
He needed to pay better attention to his own body. How had he become so distracted? Luigi, of course, but why… Damn it! What were the answers to why? Why did he even care? He never cared about anyone but himself, but found himself considering Luigi's feelings anyway! He'd been called insane many a time, but now he'd really lost it, that was probably it.  
  
He was doing it again. He'd just thought about how Luigi should be set for the next few hours so a nap would be fine. He shouldn't care about making Luigi wait for  _him_  to attend to his own needs. But he did. He just couldn't go back to ignoring his own emotions again.  
  
Unable to muster up the energy to move again, he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. It was unfortunate that Luigi was occupying the only bed in Dimension D, because he would really like to sleep it in. He thought about sharing it, and felt disgusted with himself when the idea seemed appealing.  
  
Maybe later. Right now, the floor would do. Feeling drained in more than one way, he closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.  
  


* * *

  
He awoke five hours later, still feeling like utter shit. He desperately wanted to go back to sleep, but forced himself to get up and go to the kitchen. He hadn't realized how little he'd been sleeping and eating, and he'd used entirely too much magic in too short a time span. He was lucky he hadn't killed himself what with how weak he felt right now.  
  
And yet here he was, putting Luigi first. He poured some more of the broth into a bowl, shoved it in the microwave, and made a short trip to the bathroom to get a fresh bag of pain killer for the IV. He got a spoon out of a drawer and tiredly dragged himself to the bedroom.  
  
Luigi immediately started staring at him again, clearly wondering why he was acting like a zombie. He wondered if he should wipe that look off his face, but something inside of him recoiled at the idea. Instead of doing that, he fed Luigi his broth and changed the IV bag, leaving quickly before questions could be asked. He really wished he knew how to deal with that something.  
  
He threw the few things he was carrying down the hallway (they didn't go very far), and resumed his earlier position on the floor. He felt the idiotic need to be close by. He didn't understand himself, and that made him very anxious. Here he was, drained of energy, and feeling worse than he ever had before, all because of some mysterious feeling stinging his heart like a bee does to a bear.  
  
Before he could really be bothered with thinking it over, he fell asleep again.  
  


* * *

  
He slept for fifteen hours. He didn't realize at first, having lost touch with his internal clock. He stood, wearily stretching out his sore muscles. He felt better, awake at least. He was going to have to hold off on the magic for the next few days. If he used up that much energy again, he could very well die a second time. He was going to have to hope that he would be able to catch up later and fix any scarring that occurred. He cursed himself for the thought.  
  
He went to the bathroom and looked at the clock there. He swore, realizing how long he'd been asleep for. He was severely late.  
  
He grabbed more pain killer and hurriedly made his way to the bedroom. The thick glaze of agony covering Luigi's crystal blue eyes made it clear he was sorely in need of relief. Again, he felt an apology slip onto the tip of his tongue as he gave him a fresh dose, but instead he said, "I-I'll be back in a bit." He needed time to think… And a shower. A shower would be nice.  
  


* * *

  
Luigi felt the medicine slowly work its way into his system. He'd barely heard what Dimentio had said. The last few hours had been pure torture. He knew Dimentio would do something like this. He'd only been acting nice to make it worse.  
  
As his mind cleared, he picked up the sound of running water from somewhere. A shower, it sounded like. He felt envious, because he couldn't take one himself. Hate simmered in his chest. He had only been afraid of Dimentio before, but now he hate,  _hate_ , HATED him with everything he had. He had put him in this situation, prevented him from getting a good night's sleep for  _years_ , and was responsible for the long, wretched twisting his soul was enduring even now.  
  
He seethed quietly until Dimentio came in. He was holding another bowl, but he didn't want it. He  _glared_  at him, transmitting every ounce of his frustration into the mismatched eyes. The jester paused and looked taken aback. He put the food aside and silently took a seat.  
  
"Why did you do this to me… You're a monster…" Luigi said. "I wish you'd never been born. You deserve to…t-to be burned alive, t-tortured forever and ever." His voice trembled, falling to a whisper. "I-I just want to go home… I want to be free and-and healthy and… I want to stop being scared… Grambi…I'm so scared… You can do whatever you want to me for a very long time…" He closed his eyes, trying to blink away tears. His breathing hitched with sobs. "What did I ever do to deserve this! Grambi, why… Please… Just kill me… I can't…I can't stand to live like this! Just… Just…"  
  
He had to let it all out. He didn't have any words left. The sobs turned into full-blown crying; long keening wails that echoed through the empty silence in the room. His chest heaved, tears trickling rapidly down his cheeks. He couldn't stop. This was all that was left to him.  
  
Dimentio listened patiently. He inwardly flinched with each sentence, lowering his gaze with what he was coming to realize was shame. He couldn't stand the sound of Luigi's horrible crying. He stood and started to come closer. "No! S-Stay away from me," Luigi yelled at him.  
  
Saying nothing, he leaned over the broken man. Gently, Dimentio cupped Luigi's cheeks in both hands and wiped away his tears. "I didn't mean to leave for so long… I fell asleep…" he said softly.  
  
Luigi looked up at him, tears still running freely. Dimentio's eyes were blue again. "Is-is something wrong with you?"  
  
The jester smiled a small, bitter smile. "No, I used too much magic is all. To heal you as I did earlier, I have to use my own energy and transfer it to you."  
  
Dimentio was being nice again? This…This was unbearable. "Y-You… Why are you being nice to me?! You shouldn't…"  
  
He shook his head, the smile growing slightly. "Ah ha ha… It's a complete mystery to me. Apparently, I was lying when I said all I wanted from you was your suffering. I've run myself ragged for you, and I don't know why. I am…frightened, to say the least."  
  
To Luigi's complete disbelief, a tear made its way out of the eyehole of the mask and left a glistening trail down the porcelain. Dimentio leaned down further and lightly kissed the plumber's forehead. "I… I'm sorry…"  
  
Luigi said nothing, speechless. Dimentio met his gaze evenly, a few more tears escaping from his icy blue eyes before he turned away. He started to leave, but hesitated at the door and looked back over his shoulder. Luigi still cried silently, eyes turned to the ceiling. He saw in his mind's eye the atrocious burns he'd inflicted upon him, heard the screams and the pleadings, and as he looked upon the fractured being he'd created, he finally recognized what emotions he had contracted. He didn't want to leave. He wanted, no… _needed_  to comfort him. He was so very tired of pushing away his heart.  
  
Luigi tried to take it all in, processing the rawness he'd seen in the jester's eyes. Wait, he was coming back now? He felt Dimentio move some of the pillows propping him up, a hand pushing against his shoulder blades to support him. He winced a little, wondering what was going on now. The bed creaked as weight was added to it. He started to become a little frightened, unable to see what the jester was doing.  
  
It wasn't until arms gently wrapped around his waist that he realized he was now laying in Dimentio's lap. He could feel knees folded side by side under his shoulders, and the rise and fall of his breathing pressing lightly into the back of his neck. Without thinking, he blurted out, "I-I could hear it…"  
  
"What?" Dimentio asked softly.  
  
"Your heartbeat… F-From inside…" Luigi said, blushing. Why had he said that? Where had his anger gone?  
  
"Oh…" Dimentio wasn't sure what to think of it. He suppressed a chuckle, finding it interesting in a morbid way. "I have no right to ask for your forgiveness… Everything you said earlier is true. I don't think I wish to be that way anymore… I've never truly been happy, not really..."  
  
"…What did you mean when you said you couldn't do it?" Luigi asked in a hushed voice.  
  
He sighed a long, tired sigh. "There has been only one person I've ever remotely cared about besides myself. Oh, Luigi… That person was Mr. L…"  
  
"But…you murdered him, just like that…" Luigi said, perturbed.  
  
"Yes… I regret very few things, but that…that was the biggest mistake I have ever made… I wish things had gone differently…"  
  
Luigi was beginning to understand. "I-I'm not him…"  
  
"No, but Mr. L never truly existed in the first place," Dimentio said. "Hearing you die… It did something to me, and I can't ignore it anymore. I'm sick of myself, of this sadistic, twisted creature that I am. I hate it."  
  
There was silence for a long, agonizing moment. Luigi thought about how insane this all was as he listened to the heartbeat of the person beside him. "…Are you going to let me go?"  
  
Dimentio didn't answer right away. "I…suppose I will. I don't wish to hurt you anymore…" No, he didn't want Luigi to go away! He didn't want to be alone again, not now...  
  
"And the others?" Luigi asked, voice trembling with unconcealed hope.  
  
"I won't bother them. Whatever desire I had for vengeance has vanished."  
  
Luigi closed his eyes in relief, finally able to stop crying. "…What now…"  
  
Dimentio reached up and erased the other man's tears. "You heal." And what of me, he asked himself. "You don't need to be afraid," he said to no one in particular.  
  
Luigi sighed quietly. The human touch felt nice, though he didn't want it from the one who had done this to him in the first place. But his anger had already faded away. Exhaustion started to lap over him, and he didn't fight the urge to sleep. Somehow, he felt safe in the arms of his enemy, confident for now that nothing else would befall him.  
  
Dimentio watched Luigi drift off to sleep, wanting to hold him tighter but being unable to without hurting him. Old, painful desires he'd thought he'd extinguished long ago had resurfaced in the past several days. The desire to belong, the desire to be with someone, to banish away the hurt and loneliness deep inside of him. It was impossible for Luigi to return his feelings. He knew the man was haunted by him, and he'd almost taken his life more than once. But still, there was always foolish hope.  
  
He stayed there for a while, cherishing the other's company.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

6  
  
There was a scream, followed by a loud crash.  
  
"Good evening, Mr. L. You seem to have broken your mirror."  
  
"Go away, Dimentio! I don't wanna fucking deal with you right now!"  
  
"Oh, is something wrong?"  
  
"Fuck off!"  
  
He caught his fist, and noticed it was bleeding.  
  
"Oh dear…"  
  
"Hey, I don't need your pity! Now take a damn hint."  
  
Rrrrip!  
  
"Woah, what are you-"  
  
"Be quiet for one second, would you? Now let me see…"  
  
"Ouch! Don't touch that!"  
  
"Don't be such a baby. Are you going to let me take care of this or not?"  
  
"…Alright, fine…"  
  
"…So, are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"  
  
"Why would I do that? I barely even know you!"  
  
"Ah, but I feel as if I might be able to help…"  
  


* * *

  
Dimentio was gone when he woke up. There was classical music faintly playing from somewhere in the room. The pain was still bearable, only noticeable if he thought to pay attention to it. He didn't think for a while, enjoying the calm atmosphere of the room.  
  
However, there were several things to address, and he couldn't ignore them forever. First of all, Dimentio's presence was calling back memories of his time as Mr. L. He had been completely conscious, but Nastasia's hypnosis had made his perceptions different. He had known Mario was his brother, but didn't care about that fact at all. He had known that everyone and everything in the universe was going to die, including himself, but hadn't felt a single ounce of concern about it. He had acted so differently, but he knew deep down that the hypnotizing secretary had not created a new person, but had called forth buried pieces of himself, pieces he didn't want to think about. He didn't quite remember that time because he didn't want to. He had all but blocked the memories out.  
  
On the outside, he appeared as a shy, awkward man and nothing more. Inside, he contained all his hatred and loneliness, packing it away into a dark corner of his mind. He was capable of doing terrible things if one day he snapped. Mr. L had made him aware of this. Mario and the Princess were unchanged and unbothered by the stressful adventure, but not him.  
  
He had nightmares every night. They were about various things, but most of them featured Dimentio in them somewhere. He hadn't accepted that a few of these weren't as unpleasant.  
  
He wondered what thing was finally going to destroy his sanity. He had figured it would be Dimentio, but not quite like this, in person. He'd only been able to sleep at night believing he was dead.  
  
And now, he was faced with an unspeakably terrible paradox. Dimentio had hurt him, and now Dimentio was healing him. He'd thought he'd figured out the jester's special brand of insanity, but insane people weren't as self aware as he was. Insane people didn't acknowledge what was wrong with them and begin acting in a completely different way. Or maybe they did. How would he know? He was probably going to develop Stockholm Syndrome or something like that.  
  
He separated his feelings and the facts. Fact number one, Dimentio had kidnapped him, and no one was going to notice he was missing for several weeks. Fact number two, Dimentio had…had… He forced himself to put it into words. Dimentio had  _eaten him alive_. F-Fact number three…Dimentio had changed his mind and spared him his life, but not before he'd been severely burned by stomach acid. Fact number four, he was unable to do anything until he healed somewhat, making him entirely dependent on Dimentio. And fact number five…he was trapped here, and would likely never go home.  
  
Dimentio had said he would let him go, but he doubted it. If the jester wanted to keep him, he would spend the rest of his life here, however long that may be. There would be a cycle of hurting and healing, until the jester got bored and discarded him. He shouldn't waste energy crying over his own fate, but he couldn't help it. He felt the now familiar sting of salt water trailing lines across his face. He was ashamed at his own helplessness, but tears were just about the only thing he had left.  
  
Acceptance wormed its way into him. Dimentio was a ticking time bomb. It was only a matter of time before he changed again and more pain came. He could bear it, would have to, if it meant keeping everyone he cared about safe. He could play along, in the faint hope that the truth had been told. Hope was the one thing keeping him together.  
  
Turning back to Mr. L, he thought about his time in Castle Bleck. He hadn't exactly felt at home, but he remembered the kindness Count Bleck had shown him. That was a man he wished he could have met under different circumstances. But…he also remembered Dimentio. They had been in the process of becoming friends when…  
  
A shiver passed through him. He had trusted Dimentio then, and the jester had taken that trust and exploded it to high heaven. Why had he done that? Why couldn't he have just remained the one person who Luigi had begun to feel understood him? There were far too many whys.  
  
The one flaw in his theory of torture was the sixth fact. Fact number six… Dimentio was sacrificing his own health to care for him. If it was all a lie…an act, then…there was no discernible reason for this. There was no way Dimentio could be that good of an actor. He had seen him stumble around, with barely enough energy to keep his balance. He had fainted from exhaustion.  
  
And…the apology. He could still feel it now, the feather-light touch of Dimentio's lips on his irritated skin. It should have uncomfortably reminded him of something else, but it hadn't. It had made him feel warm inside. And he had meant it. Maybe he wouldn't mean it in a few days, but he had meant it nonetheless. Something deep inside of him was sure it had been sincere.  
  
The music stopped. The record had probably ended. A few moments later, the jester poked his head through the door. His blank expression had melted into a soft, uncertain one. He came in, seeing that Luigi was awake. "Did I wake you?"  
  
Luigi watched his progress through the room as he went over to an old-looking record player. "No."  
  
Dimentio flipped the vinyl over and set the needle, sending the sounds of Mozart into the air once more. He came and sat down in his chair. "Is this music agreeable?"  
  
Luigi turned his gaze to the ceiling, wishing he could change positions to be more comfortable. "I guess… I haven't really been listening to it…"  
  
"…Are you…ok?"  
  
More tears slipped out.  
  
"No, of course not. What a stupid question to ask… Is there…anything I can do for you?"  
  
You could die, he thought, but didn't really mean it. "…No, I don't think so… Why don't you send me home? If you aren't going to hurt me anymore, why not drop me off somewhere where someone will find me and take care of me?"  
  
Dimentio winced. That was getting right to the heart of the matter. "I could…but… I desire you're company, and…I wish to see this through myself." He folded his legs and hugged them, placing his bare feet onto the edge of the chair and peering over his knees at Luigi. "I wouldn't begin to know what to do with myself…"  
  
Luigi snorted. "Go back to doing whatever it was you were doing before."  
  
"You want me to go back to torturing and murdering? No… I don't want to live in the dark any longer," Dimentio said firmly.  
  
"You're not going to let me go." It wasn't a question.  
  
The jester shook his head, messy black hair falling into his face. He lifted a hand and moved the stray locks back into place. "No… I will, I…I promise."  
  
Luigi simply sighed, resigned expression unchanged. If this was acting, Dimentio deserved an Oscar. "Why didn't you give me some of that pain-numbing stuff before you put me through changing my bandages?"  
  
Dimentio sighed. "Ah… Pain killer interfere with my ability to assess your condition magically… You will have to bear with it."  
  
"Why don't you just let me heal normally?"  
  
"Because then you would bear terrible scars all over your body for the rest of your life. I…don't wish for you to be disfigured."  
  
Really? That's what he was worried about? Luigi just wanted to live and go back to his life. He didn't care about scars. "I don't care about that."  
  
"No. I will not allow it," the jester replied, a touch of anger in his voice.  
  
He realized he'd stepped into dangerous territory, but continued anyway. "Why… Why do care? About me?"  
  
"I don't know!" he returned hotly. Luigi flinched. Dimentio cleared his throat, lowering the volume of his voice. "I care because I do, if that makes any sense."  
  
"It doesn't," Luigi said flatly.  
  
"…Why are you crying?"  
  
"I don't know what to believe."  
  
Dimentio unfolded himself and reached out, lightly grasping Luigi's hand. "Please don't be afraid. Everyone's always been afraid of me…"  
  
"People are afraid of monsters," Luigi said coldly, not responding to the touch.  
  
"You know nothing of me, Luigi. Do not presume that I was always one."  
  
"…What are you, then?"  
  
Dimentio retracted his hand. "I'm only human…just like you, and everyone else in the world." He paused. "The world is a cruel, uncaring place, Luigi. You take so much for granted. You have family, friends, a roof over your head, enough to eat. I have never had any of those things willingly given to me, not even when I was a child. I must always take, or have nothing."  
  
Luigi listened, thinking for the first time about what Dimentio must have been like as a baby, an innocent toddler. What had happened to him to turn him into this sick fiend?  
  
"Perhaps that is no excuse…" he continued. "Still, I yearn for what every intelligent creature wants. Can you tell me what that is?"  
  
Luigi tried to chase his sympathy away. Sympathy was a major symptom of Stockholm Syndrome. "Companionship…" he whispered. "Belonging… Love."  
  
"Yes…" Dimentio whispered back, leaning closer.  
  
Luigi slowly shook his head. "N-No… Stop doing this! I don't want to be your puppet!"  
  
"I'm not doing anything," the jester said. "I'm only trying to be honest with myself and you."  
  
He had known this, had realized it a long time ago in another life. "No no no no no…"  
  
Dimentio crept up beside him and placed a hand on his forehead. "Calm yourself… I will not take anything you don't wish to give. This is the one thing I cannot bear to take…" His voice cracked audibly. Tears trickled down both sides of his mask.  
  
Luigi cursed him. "Get away from me, you bastard."  
  
Dimentio didn't listen, only feeling that now familiar ache deep in his chest. He held Luigi's head with both hands as he had earlier, looking into Luigi's watery eyes and silently begging him to understand.  
  
Luigi could do nothing as Dimentio captured his face, forcing him to look up into the eyeholes of the mask where two vivid pools of blue lay. He could see into them, where there was only pain and sadness. His heart began to beat irregularly, and he unconsciously clenched his fists. He was crying for an entirely different reason now.  
  
Slowly, Dimentio leaned forward, giving Luigi time to object. Luigi didn't, too busy trying to remember how to breathe. Unable to stop himself, Dimentio came closer and closer until their noses were brushing. One hand crept to the back of Luigi's head and held it tenderly. "Please…" he breathed, and suddenly their lips met and he was kissing his poor, broken victim.  
  
He closed his eyes, tears coming freely and dripping onto the other man's cheeks. He hadn't cried like this since he was a child. He just couldn't take any more. It was either let it out or die.  
  
The kiss broke with an agonized gasp. Dimentio's other arm found its way around Luigi's neck, and then he was hugging Luigi to him as hard as he dared to. He couldn't stop crying, pressing his damp face into the crook of the man's bandaged neck as a few quiet sobs escaped him, wanting nothing more in the world than to be held.  
  
"I-I'm so sorry, Luigi… Help me, please help me…"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has the nickname of "Crying: The Chapter."   
> Also, small warning. There's a specific instance of abuse in this chapter.

7  
  
Luigi blinked up at the ceiling. He didn't react in any way, only letting it happen. Eventually, Dimentio's sobs faded away, and the jester straightened. He stiffly stood and turned away, distancing himself. "My apologies… And after I just said I wasn't going to do that…" he muttered.  
  
He looked over his shoulder and saw that Luigi was wearing a completely neutral expression. He didn't meet his gaze. Dimentio haltingly went back to his chair and sat down in the fetal position, hiding his face.  
  
It was silent. The record player began to skip as the record finished the last track. It was the only sound until Dimentio finally flicked a finger at it, causing the needle to lift. Dimentio raise his head and stared at Luigi. "…Say something."  
  
Luigi said nothing.  
  
Dimentio sighed, the sound betraying the amount of stress he was feeling. He continued to watch Luigi, but the man's only movements were to blink and breathe. He couldn't take the silence any longer. He got up and left, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Luigi flinched. His thoughts had derailed, and he made no effort to fix them. Eventually though, his brain started working again. Dimentio had kissed him. Dimentio had KISSED him. And the fact that he didn't know how to feel about it was completely disgusting.  
  
He had been kissed before by Princess Daisy, and those little pecks had made his heart flutter. But this… It-It shouldn't make him feel this way! Dimentio was his worst enemy! Dimentio was a villain, a murderer, one of the vilest creatures to exist! So why… Why did it make him feel all warm and tingly inside, like blushing? Why was it so easy to forget about all those bad things?  
  
Grambi help him, he had truly gone insane. In just a few days, Dimentio had turned from a despicable villain into a pitiful creature. He had very few doubts that this was an act now. Dimentio had too much pride to bring himself down to this level on purpose. Voluntarily or not, he had shown him his very soul, the hidden pain that wracked his heart. Luigi cursed himself for feeling pity and even compassion.  
  
He hated himself. He hated Dimentio. He hated everything. He screamed one long scream before returning to his silence, chest heaving with ragged breaths.  
  


* * *

  
Dimentio slammed the door, standing there a moment with clenched fists. He wanted to tear down the world, blow everything up. He counted himself lucky that he was too tired to do so. The course of his emotions changed, and he bent in half and wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying to fight the desperate ache that rose there. He bumped into the wall and slid down it, wracked with more silent sobs.  
  
It would be so,  _so_  easy to take Luigi. All he had to do was disregard the other's emotions, and he would be his forever. But it was the one line he refused to cross. It was silly, really, when torture and murder seemed perfectly fine. He met many people he desired, but never took them. He had always known, subconsciously, that this was the one thing he'd like to do right. It was important to him.  
  
It was going to tear him apart. He had thought he knew what desire was, but this was so much different, so much stronger. It wasn't even based upon lust.  
  
He wished Mr. L was here. He hated himself for destroying his first and only friendship. Now he knew why he had always been careful to avoid feelings like these. They hurt so damn much. It was only going to get worse every day. He should kill Luigi. He should send him away as he'd suggested. Both thoughts stung and made panic bubble up inside him.  
  
If he sent Luigi away, what would he have? It was too late now. He couldn't become a mercenary again, not with the way his heart had changed. And he would always be haunted by what ifs. It would never leave him alone again. Was it too late? He thought so. It was wrong to want Luigi's heart, especially after all he had done to the man. But want it he did, and he was tortured by the certainty that he would never have it. He didn't know what he was doing. He shouldn't try. He couldn't seem to help it.  
  
On the other side of the door, Luigi screamed once, a long scream of frustration. The poor man. Dimentio couldn't say which one of them was having the worst time. He wanted to go back in there and kiss away his tears and hold him and never let go. But he didn't, because it was wrong. Luigi didn't want him. Luigi didn't want him to do things like that. He couldn't imagine what it was like to have your worst enemy, who had just injured you to the point of death, turn around and confess their emotions to you. He couldn't begin to put them into words. The whole situation was just plain fucked up.  
  
His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since this morning. He didn't deserve to eat. He remembered what it had felt like to swallow Luigi whole and alive. You might even call it cannibalism, though he didn't think of it that way. It was an act of possession, of making his victim completely his. It had been sublime. He wanted to do it again, and see it through to the end this time. He didn't know if he wanted to do it to Luigi. He wanted the man,  _all of him_ , but he didn't want him dead.  
  
He sighed. No… He didn't want him hurt. He didn't want to see the fear that was always just under the surface of his crystal blue eyes. Just once, he'd like to be welcome, wanted. He pushed away his own selfish desires as he had pushed away his emotions all these years.  
  
Dimentio stood. The ache had subsided only a little. He needed to feed himself, then Luigi. He didn't know how that was going to go. He went to the kitchen and heated some soup he had prepared last night. He made himself a bowl and barely finished it, appetite substantially reduced. He got another bowl and stood outside the bedroom, hesitating.  
  
He shook himself and entered. Luigi was still staring at the ceiling with the same blank stare. He felt worry worm its way into his gut. The chair creaked as he settled into it and scooted it closer. The soup had been upgraded from plain broth into chicken noodle. Luigi should be able to keep something richer down.  
  
Dimentio ladled out a spoonful, but the plumber turned his head aside and wouldn't take it. The jester frowned, but Luigi made it clear that he didn't want to eat. Luigi should be starving. It had been more than a day since he had had anything to eat. "Please… Don't do this…"  
  
Luigi fixed him with a stare. There was only the dull burning fire of hatred there.  
  
Dimentio silently set the spoon down in the bowl and put it aside. He stood slowly, hands clenched at his sides. Luigi watched as his features became twisted by anger, his own face paling with terror. He'd forgotten to play along.  
  
The jester deliberately took a step towards the far end of the bed, back turned towards the plumber. He lifted a hand. It hovered over Luigi's left leg, shaking. With a growl, he clamped it down over the calf and  _squeezed_. Luigi gasped and screeched, the hard pressure igniting lancing fire up his spine.  
  
Dimentio saw the plumber's back arch with pain. He saw the way it made him close his eyes and grit his teeth, and his rage vanished instantly. He let go at once, stepping away and cupping his face in his hands. Luigi stopped screaming, but his dilapidated breathing didn't slow. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Dimentio sobbed, shoulders hunched in defeat.  
  
Luigi choked down the wails that threatened to escape. He should have known this was coming. He'd pushed the wrong buttons. The pain died down to an ache. Dimentio didn't move, only stood there with his head in his hands, trembling. Was it about to get worse? "I-I'm sorry! I'll do whatever you want, please don't hurt me!" he said in desperation.  
  
"Oh, Luigi…" Dimentio murmured before collapsing onto his knees. He titled back and sat down, leaning against the side of the bed. He didn't move his hands from his mask as he let whatever words wanted to form pour out of him. "Don't be sorry… None of this is your fault. I-I didn't mean to hurt you… I should have stayed down in the Underwhere where I belong, suffering as I deserve to. Th-Then you would've never been hurt, and I w-w-wouldn't feel this way…"  
  
He was crying again. How did he even have any tears left to cry? "Why do I feel this way?! It hurts so much… Please make it go away… It's too late now…too late…"  
  
"Dimentio…" Luigi said softly.  
  
"Please forgive me… Too late…too late… I'm so sorry…"  
  
"Send me home."  
  
"No!" Dimentio gasped. He looked up at Luigi, mismatched eyes burning.  
  
Luigi returned the gaze with hardened eyes. "I want to go home. If you really are sorry, then send me to the princess' castle. People will find me there."  
  
Dimentio's eyes widened. He shook his head miserably.  
  
"Dimentio, please…" Luigi whispered.  
  
Dimentio looked into his eyes. He raised a shaky hand and slowly touched his thumb to his middle finger. Luigi kept staring at him, pleading silently with everything in him.  
  
After a tense moment, the hand dropped. Dimentio looked away, face contorting painfully. Luigi sighed, closing his eyes. "I can't… I can't…" Dimentio whispered. Luigi only felt cold.  
  
Dimentio waited for the tremors to go away. They didn't. He spoke anyway. "...Please help me… I don't want to you to go. I don't want to be alone anymore! I can't-" He broke off, at a loss for words.  
  
Luigi took that as a confirmation of his fear. "I'm never going home…"  
  
"N-No…I-"  
  
"Dammit! Don't lie to me, Dimentio!" he shouted.  
  
Dimentio stood and turned towards him. Luigi braced for another punishment. Dimentio breathed. "…Al-Alright. You want the truth? I am the worst, basest being in existence." He drew closer with every word. "I am warped, twisted, contemptible. But… damn it all. Somehow… I… I love you, Luigi."  
  
Luigi gasped. Their noses were touching again. "N-No!" he protested. To his surprise, Dimentio stopped and came no closer, leaning away the slightest bit. In the jester's eyes he saw desire, pain, and despair… "No, y-you don't… You don't know what love is."  
  
Dimentio brought up his hands and cupped Luigi's face. "No, I don't…but I'm certain. I've never felt like this before. No one's ever made me feel like the biggest piece of trash in the world just by looking at me. Help me… I don't know what to do… I can't imagine how you feel, and I won't force anything… Don't pretend anything for me…"  
  
Luigi shook his head, shooing away the gentle hands. Tears dripped down to his neck. "Let me go…"  
  
"I can't."  
  
"Let me go!" he sobbed. "I don't want to be here! I don't want you anywhere near me! I hate you!"  
  
He inhaled and forgot to breath. Dimentio only smiled a small, sad smile filled with pain and said, "I know…"  
  
They stared at each other. "…Why won't you let me go…"  
  
"If I did, what would happen to me? You've done something to me Luigi, and it's too late."  
  
"N-No…"  
  
"Please…"  
  
"No! How could I possibly love you?! Y-You're a monster!"  
  
"…"  
  
"I just want to go home!"  
  
"And I just want you."  
  
"You're sick!"  
  
"Oh, what have you done to me Luigi… What is this… I want to make you happy, but at the same time I can't bear to let you go. If I did, I feel certain it would destroy me..."  
  
"No!"  
  
"I'm sorry, but you must stay. Ask anything of me, but not that."  
  
"Please, Dimentio!"  
  
"I'm sorry… Please, eat your soup. If you don't eat, you'll die."  
  
He ate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, it's always a fun time when you just devolve into dialogue only.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

8  
  
"Oh! What happened to your hand, Mr. L?"  
  
"N-Nothing!"  
  
"Let me see… Someone already bandaged it?"  
  
"D-Dimentio did…"  
  
"Why would he do that?"  
  
"I don't know… Nastasia… Can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Um… Go ahead."  
  
"Do you know…where Dimentio came from?"  
  
"No. He won't tell us. But… When the count found him, he wasn't in the best condition."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"He was wearing ragged clothes. He was also was fairly thin. He clearly didn't come from a good place."  
  
"Oh…"  
  
"Mr. L?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"…Don't trust him. I don't."  
  
The click-clack of her heels as she walked away.  
  
It was forgotten, until-  
  
"Argh! Wh-Why… Why do I…"  
  
There was a familiar ping from behind him. He turned around. "Y-You… Go away and leave me alone…please…"  
  
"Ah ha ha ha! The count would want someone to check up on you when they can hear you cursing like a chorus of angry teenagers from down the hall."  
  
"Oh yeah? Did he also say that you're literally the worst person in the world to do that?"  
  
The jester put a hand on his chest. "Come now. I'm offended! Surely it isn't so strange to watch over a fellow minion."  
  
"When it's you, it is. You don't ever bother anyone but me, you know. Say, why is that?"  
  
"…"  
  
"Hah! What's that dumb look on your face?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Sure you don't!" A creak as he sat down on his bed, still chuckling.  
  
Dimentio flicked his cheek, which made him stop.  
  
"Ow! What was that for?"  
  
"Don't make fun of me. It's rude."  
  
"It's kind of hard not to when you keep saying things like that."  
  
Dimentio sat beside him. "How's your hand?"  
  
"Huh?" He looked at the injury. It was only a little white line. "It's fine, see? Just a scar now."  
  
Dimentio's smile twitched very slightly. "That's good. And how are  _you_  feeling?"  
  
"Well… I'm not sure. Okay, I guess."  
  
"You're not still having those dreams, are you?"  
  
"Every few days or so…but not every night anymore. I don't even really remember them."  
  
"Hmm…" Dimentio began to delicately trace the veins on the back of his hand.  
  
"Uh, what are you doing?"  
  
"Oh, nothing."  
  
He made no move to stop the jester from touching him. It felt nice, and was only barely above friendly.  
  
"Say, Dimentio… How come I'm the only one you ever visit?"  
  
The jester looked up at him. "...Maybe I like you."  
  
He blinked. Oh.  _Oh!_  "Er, I'm not sure I play for that team…"  
  
Dimentio removed his hand. "I see…"  
  
He looked at him,  _really_  looked at him. "I mean, you're not ugly or anything…"  
  
The jester cocked his head. "Thanks?"  
  
He sighed and put his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. "Sorry…"  
  
Dimentio put his arm around his shoulders. "Are you sure nothing is bothering you?"  
  
"I…"  
  
Dimentio put a little pressure onto his back, encouraging him to lean against his side.  
  
He hesitated, then shifted and did so. "I'm not sure what it is, really… Sometimes I just feel really uneasy for no reason that I can see. Like something's wrong, or like I shouldn't be thinking about something."  
  
He tucked his legs under him and put more of his weight against Dimentio, resting his cheek on his shoulder. The jester carefully wrapped his other arm around his friend and pulled him into a hug.  
  
He sighed, finding the gesture comforting. "Thanks…"  
  
"For what?" Dimentio hummed.  
  
"You know… For being there. For being my friend. You really make this whole thing bearable."  
  
"…You're welcome…L."  
  
He shifted out of the embrace, but didn't move away. Their legs were still touching. He twiddled his fingers nervously, feeling mysterious butterflies in his stomach.  
  
Dimentio had on a strangely somber expression.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.  
  
Dimentio blinked, and the smile was back. "Nothing." He stood.  
  
"W-Wait!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I-I… I don't want to be alone right now…"  
  
"Well…alright. I'll stay, but only because you look so pitiful."  
  
He didn't smile at the joke.  
  
Dimentio sat down again. After a moment, he took his hand and held it.  
  
He entwined his fingers with the jester's gloved ones, and felt better for it.  
  


* * *

  
Luigi became aware of darkness and opened his eyes, greeted by the stupid green ceiling. The butterflies hadn't left. They came from a time long ago, when they had been friends, before he had known just how dangerous Dimentio was. The signs were only there in hindsight.  
  
He wondered what they meant, but that was like trying to find out the meaning of life. He wished he had something that was good to think about.  
  
Why had Dimentio betrayed him? Hadn't they been friends?  _Real_  friends? He had inspired trust, confidence… When he had been surrounded by only confusion and fear, Dimentio had been his rock. Perhaps he should ask. He was going to be stuck with him for the rest of his life, so he thought he deserved to know.  
  
He flexed his right hand, the one Dimentio had held. The movement resulted in a dull flare of pain in the rest of his arm. He did it again, but couldn't stand a third time. He would never forgive Dimentio, not for the betrayal, the nightmares, the pain…the way he was trying to toy with his heart…  
  
Luigi imagined what it would be like to be home, with Mario being the one taking care of him. His brother would wait on him hand and foot, never leaving him alone in this unbearable quiet. He felt the familiar stinging in his eyes. He was so homesick. He would never see any of them again. Now that something had quickened Dimentio's heart, he was never going to let go.  
  
Dimentio would hurt him again if he wasn't careful. It would be easier to stop resisting and let him do what he wanted. He couldn't, not yet, because his pride hadn't been stamped out of him. Dimentio was a master of manipulation. It wouldn't take much more.  
  
In that moment, he wanted to die. He could tell himself it might not be so bad all he wanted, but the truth was that he had a terrible future ahead of him. Maybe he would be gifted with little bits of happiness here and there, but he would be a slave. He would be  _used_ , he felt certain. This thing Dimentio thought was love would warp and darken, and he would think it was right. He didn't want to test how much of it he could take before his sanity snapped. He wanted so desperately to die.  
  


* * *

  
Sometime later, he heard the sound of the shower running. Shortly after that, Dimentio entered, carrying a bowl of soup and a bit of bread. He was wearing his jester's outfit again. Dimentio didn't meet his gaze, spoon-feeding him in silence.  
  
Luigi wanted to protest, but was too afraid to. It wouldn't end well. He wished he could change positions. His back hurt, and he wanted to stretch. He couldn't seem to get any words out.  
  
He was grateful for the soup, though. It was good, composed of a rich broth and a pleasant mix of noodles, carrots, and chicken chunks. He ate in similar silence, a thick and deadly tension zipping between them. It didn't feel wise to speak first.  
  
Eventually though, he finished eating and there was nothing else to do. Dimentio put on more classical music and left him alone again. The pain began to get worse.  
  


* * *

  
He was starting to wish he hadn't had the clock removed. He hadn't been able to see it before, but maybe if he craned the right way… He was going to have to ask for one, for his sanity's sake. Not knowing how much time was passing was unbearable. He was sure it wouldn't be too much trouble to get a digital one.  
  
He realized something, though. He didn't know how long he'd been here. He'd been unconscious for a while, and as far as he knew it could have been a month or less than a week. As far as he could tell (and it was hard to do so when he didn't know how long his periods of sleep were), he'd been awake for three days or so.  
  
He wondered what he could or could not request. It was clear his freedom was out of the question, but what else could he ask for without crossing a line? Really, something to occupy him was his only other extreme desire. The music was nice; if only he could pay attention to it. He closed his eyes and tried to block out invading thoughts, following the delicate tinkling of a piano line. He didn't listen to classical music too often. He found it rather boring. But anything that wasn't peaceful would probably be too much right now.  
  
After a few minutes, he managed to relax and just listen, ignoring the increasing ache of his body. He was startled to alertness when the door opened. Dimentio stepped inside, carrying several things. Luigi felt a dreadful chill settle on his heart. It was time for another bandage change.  
  
Dimentio lifted the needle off the record to stop the music, then walked over to the bed. He didn't have to say what came next. He saw the fear in Luigi's eyes and wished there was a better way to do this. Well, there was, but he cared too much to take that route.  
  
Luigi felt himself being levitated off the bed and swallowed heavily, trembling. He wasn't looking forward to seeing the way his body had been ravaged. He didn't like the reminder of his situation. Not to mention that he didn't expect Dimentio to be as gentle as last time, and that had already hurt plenty.  
  
Surprisingly though, he was. Dimentio unraveled the bandages carefully and began to dab lightly at the injuries. The places he touched only added a small spike to the pain he was already feeling. Luigi looked down, seeing anew the angry red burns he was covered with. He closed his eyes and whimpered quietly. How long was this going to take to heal? How much longer would he be unable to do the simplest tasks? It had only been a few days, but each and every one of those had been a terrible rollercoaster of fear and pain and unknown confliction. Death still looked preferable.  
  
He felt the delicate touch of a washcloth gently cleaning his face. He didn't react, wishing that it was his brother's touch. He bore the process without a sound, only opening his eyes when Dimentio said his name. He turned his head to look at him.  
  
The jester was holding a small bowl of something that smelled strange and medicinal. He had removed his black gloves. "Luigi…" he said again. "I don't think it wise to tax myself, so I am going to apply this paste. It will help with the burns, but…it's going to sting."  
  
Luigi nodded, appreciating the warning. It was only another thing on a long list of things to bear. Dimentio dipped two fingers into the bowl and started on his feet. Luigi hissed. It didn't sting, it  _burned_ , the sensation reaching like red-hot needles deep down into his muscles. It took minutes to cool as Dimentio worked his way up, going through three bowls of the stuff before he was finished. Then, he wrapped new bandages around him, and it was done.  
  
Dimentio left for a brief moment to wash his hands. When he returned, he changed the bed sheets and summoned a new blanket, banishing the soiled layers away to be washed later. He paused, eying Luigi critically before removing many of the pillows that had been stacked behind him. Slowly, the plumber's body rotated until he was on his left side. He was lowered gingerly onto the fresh sheets, and pain killer was sent coursing into his veins.  
  
Luigi sighed, glad for the new position, even if he could feel his own weight pressing uncomfortably into his shoulder. Dimentio unfolded the blanket and tenderly covered him with it. He stood there for a moment before taking a seat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in his lap and head bowed.  
  
Luigi craned his head up, being able to see the right side of the room for the first time. He saw the edge of the end table and a few of the things upon it; a tiny nail jutting from the corner of the room where the clock had previously resided; a bookshelf crammed full of novels and textbooks; a slight crack in the wall that might lead to a closet. He straightened, settling his cheek back down on his pillow, laying flat for the first time since he'd awoken.  
  
"How…" The word came out dryly and too quietly. He licked his lips and tried again. "How long have I been here…?"  
  
Dimentio turned his head, finally meeting Luigi's gaze. Luigi saw that his eyes were still blue. "…You were unconscious for almost eight days… This is the twelfth day…" he muttered.  
  
Luigi gasped. It'd almost been two weeks?  
  
"I went to your house today…" Dimentio continued. "Mario has not returned from his adventure. No one knows you're missing," he said dully.  
  
"…I-I'm not surprised…" Luigi said sadly.  
  
Dimentio cocked his head. "Hmm?"  
  
"I'm not nearly as important as Mario… Most people don't even remember my name… I'm not brave or strong like him. I can't do all the things he can…" He choked back a sob as the old sorrow hit him, squeezing his eyes shut.  
  
"Why do you want to go back then, if you weren't happy there?"  
  
Luigi didn't respond, looking away.  
  
"Oh. Because I'm worse." Dimentio sighed. "I didn't ask to be the way I am…"  
  
"…I know."  
  
Minutes passed before Dimentio asked, "Do you… Do you think I could change?"  
  
"…I…I don't know…" And he didn't. When something was evil, it usually fulfilled certain expectations. He didn't know what to expect from Dimentio.  
  
Dimentio took off his hat and threw it on the floor, running his fingers through his messy black hair. He clasped his hands on the back of his head and rested his elbows on his knees, bowing down. He blew out a long breath. "I keep feeling the urge to apologize to you. I don't know why, since it won't help…"  
  
"…Why did you do it?"  
  
"Which 'it' are you referring to?"  
  
"Why did you…in the destroyed world…" Tears welled up in his azure eyes as he felt the kick of the old betrayal. "Weren't we…friends?"  
  
"Yes…I think so… If that is what friendship feels like…"  
  
"Then…why?"  
  
"Because… I wanted to save you."  
  
"S-Save me?"  
  
"I…I didn't want to do it, but it was necessary… At first, I only got close to you because you had touched the Chaos Heart. Some of its power was contained in you. You were its vessel, and I would need every piece of it to succeed. But… I found myself truly enjoying your company. You saw what I was, but you didn't care. You gave me a chance anyway. The first reason was the power, yes, but the second was because I was unsure what would happen to you.  
  
"I didn't know if I was going to be able to command the Chaos Heart to spare you from the universe's destruction. I was likelier to succeed if I had kept you instead of sent you back to your brother. But I had to, in order to usher the prophecy of the Light Prognosticus along. Mario really has no idea how much I helped with."  
  
"I k-know you said that to try and trick us, but…" Luigi murmured, wide-eyed.  
  
"Luigi, without me, the Heroes of Light would have never been successful. I've read both Prognosticuses several times, and understand them far better than that fool Merlon ever will."  
  
"But you wanted the Dark Prognosticus to win out, right?"  
  
"Yes, but first I needed Count Bleck out of the way. I never considered that the Pure Hearts could be recharged by love. Love is such a strange thing… Does anyone even truly understand it?" the jester asked rhetorically, a wistful look gracing his mask. He chuckled. "It's funny. Everything turned out well for everyone except me. Otherwise, you would have had to kill Count Bleck if I hadn't made myself the target, yes?"  
  
Luigi blinked. He had done his best not to think about all that, but it was true. "W-What about the second time?"  
  
"Ah… That time, you only thought you were dying. I simply knocked you unconscious so I could plant the Floro Sprout."  
  
Luigi shuddered, remembering the horrible feel of the thing. "How was that supposed to save me, though?"  
  
"It simply ensured that you would combine with me. By melding your form with mine and that of the Chaos Heart, I hoped that you would gain the protection it gave me. Again, I didn't think you would be so strong. I found myself fighting in two places at once. If I had been able to focus, I surely would have crushed your friends."  
  
Dimentio put an arm around Luigi, his palm resting in the small of his back. Their eyes locked again, Luigi remembering what it had been like to share minds with the jester, privy to each other's thoughts. He had fought as hard as he could, through the Floro Sprout and right to Dimentio's soul; appealing with everything in him for him to stop.  
  
Dimentio leaned a little closer, but not too close. "So don't tell me that you aren't strong, Luigi. You are the strongest person I have ever met."  
  
"H-How can I be strong when I'm always afraid?"  
  
"You cannot be strong and brave without fear. At least, that's what I've gleaned from my books. Look at you. You are strong enough to support your brother while living in his shadow. You were and are strong enough to fight me. Even now, you are strong enough to keep a hold on your sanity. An ordinary man would have broken a while ago in this situation."  
  
Luigi swallowed. It was true. It'd been hard to stay strong when so many things were pressing on him from all sides, but he had done it. "It-It's not over yet…" he whispered. "It won't ever be…"  
  
Dimentio stayed silent. He turned and took Luigi's right hand, putting his thumb across the palm. He folded his fingers over Luigi's, forcing them to grasp around his thumb. "Squeeze as hard as you can," he said.  
  
Luigi did, uninhibited by pain for now. He managed a moderate squeeze, enough that Dimentio could feel his circulation cutting off a little. They did the other hand, which didn't have as much strength. "Good… I think you will recover just fine."  
  
"Dimentio… If I can't go home, then… I want to die."  
  
Dimentio sucked in a sharp breath. He knew that, of course, but he didn't want to think about it. He lowered his gaze and withdrew his hand. He'd been thinking about this all day, and had finally chosen a course of action. "Luigi… There is another reason why you must stay."  
  
"What?" Luigi said bitterly.  
  
"If I don't heal you, you'll become horribly scarred."  
  
"I told you, I don't care about that."  
  
Dimentio winced. "And…your muscles might never function normally again. The damage went deep, Luigi. You would become a cripple."  
  
"Wh-What?"  
  
Dimentio looked at him. "If I don't…" He choked up and started again. "If I don't then… Even if you went back, I would have taken away everything you love. No more adventuring, only being confined to a wheelchair with your brother taking care of you."  
  
The jester scooted forward and cupped Luigi's face with his hands. He sighed, never getting tired of the feel of the gesture. "I have decided…" A few tears dribbled down to his chin as he spoke. "I have no right to keep you here. I have no right to make you stay with me. This is the one thing… This is the one thing that I've always wanted to do right, but I don't know how. You don't love me. I could make you love me, but it wouldn't be right. I can hope, but I know you never will."  
  
Luigi blinked away tears of his own. Dimentio had no idea how wrong he was.  
  
The jester took a shuddering breath, his face screwing up with pain. "So…So… I will let you go. Not now…but once I set you back on your feet.  _I promise_."  
  
Luigi couldn't believe it. "Sure…"  
  
Dimentio frowned, hands trembling. "No… I mean it. If I forget, you must remind me.  _I promise_. I will send you home once you are able to care for yourself without much difficulty. …Ok?"  
  
Luigi nodded. Dimentio bent down and kissed his cheek, nuzzling into his shoulder as he wrapped him up in a soft hug. Luigi closed his eyes, a slight blush creeping onto his face. After a long moment, Dimentio straightened and stepped back. He looked off to the side, allowing his own blush to show on his mask.  
  
He rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Um… Another thing. …May I sleep beside you?"  
  
"W-What?!" Luigi stammered, face reddening further.  
  
Dimentio put his hands on his hips. "Well, this  _is_  my bedroom, and you are occupying the only bed that I have. I'm rather tired of sleeping on the floor as it's giving me a rather bad crick in my neck."  
  
Luigi blinked in realization. "Y-You're not going to cuddle with me, are you?"  
  
"Hmm, no… I can put a barrier between us, if you'd like."  
  
Luigi nodded. "You probably should." He didn't want to wake up to find Dimentio snuggling up against him. He knew the jester was a sleep cuddler.  
  
Dimentio went around to the other side of the bed and started building a wall out of the spare pillows.  
  
"What, right now?" Luigi asked, surprised.  
  
"It's almost midnight, and I'm tired," Dimentio replied. "We could both use some rest, actually." He yawned and climbed onto the bed. Getting a blanket for himself, he curled up into a ball and wrapped himself in it, his back to Luigi. The room's light dimmed.  
  
Neither of them said anything for a long time. "…Everything will turn out alright… Don't you heroes always believe that?" Dimentio asked softly.  
  
Luigi didn't respond, only listened as the jester's breathing gradually slowed. He closed his eyes and managed to sleep as well, even in his former friend's presence.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

  
9  
  
He woke up screaming, and quickly stifled it with his hands. He panted heavily, staring up at the black vaulted ceiling of his room until his heart stopped beating so fast. He wiped the sweat away with the back of his hand, peering around the dark room nervously. Everything looked like a shadow creeping up on him.  
  
The door opened suddenly, and he almost screamed again. He caught half of a white face peeking in and realized it was only Dimentio. The jester floated towards him and sat on his bed. He looked concerned.  
  
He sat up, putting his face in his hands. Dimentio cocked his head and drew a little closer. There was something a little unsettling in his gaze, but he didn't notice until the jester captured his wrists and tugged him onto his lap.  
  
Words refused to come out of his mouth, lodging in his throat as he started to become a little afraid. Dimentio's smile didn't change, only displaying the cold, porcelain mockery it always did. He leaned in closer until their chests were pressed together and he whispered something incomprehensible in his ear. One arm snaked around his shoulders while the other circled his waist.  
  
He shivered, Dimentio's iron hold on him leaving him unable to escape. The jester captured his lips next, stealing away his breath. A hand latched into his hair, painfully wrenching it.  
  
He struggled. He didn't want this! His friend was being far too rough, and he wasn't comfortable with this at all! Finally, he managed to pull away, scrambling off the bed and into a corner of the room, breathing raggedly.  
  
Dimentio's yellow eye, glowing in the dark, followed him. He heard a snap, and then six golden walls compressed around him, boxing him in. He pounded on them, desperate to get out, but they wouldn't budge. They seemed to close in on him, suffocating… Dimentio slowly came closer, step by step. His smile cracked, turning into an insane, fanged grin.  
  
He cowered. Dimentio put his thumb to his middle finger, poised to snap. He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to come, but it didn't. When he opened them, he was in a black void, all the white outlines of his room gone. Air whistled past him. He was falling. He looked down, and screamed.  
  
The fanged grin waited for him down below. It opened, presenting a dark red hole, a pit which would lead him down and down into despair. The tongue extended out to him, catching him and manipulating him. He tried to resist, but everything was too slippery, and he slid backwards, then down.  
  
It was imminent, unavoidable. He couldn't move. He heard a growl from below him, and tried, but he couldn't move. The push and pull of the powerful muscles around him was inescapable. Down, down, for an eternity, until he bumped against something that opened for him. Slowly, he was forced to curl up in a prison that was much too hot and much too moist. The walls constricted around him, pressing into him from all sides. He couldn't breathe. His skin began to tingle…  


* * *

  
He woke up screaming, and quickly closed his throat over the sound. He panted heavily, staring up at the ugly green ceiling as his heart went a thousand miles per hour. Beside him, Dimentio muttered something sleepily and peered over the wall of pillows.  
  
It was clear to the jester that Luigi had had a nightmare. He had them every night. He started to climb over the barrier in order to comfort him, as he used to do under the gaze of the dark castle.  
  
Luigi felt Dimentio start to move him onto his lap and flinched. The nightmare was too fresh in his mind. To his relief, Dimentio backed off and returned to his side of the bed, watching warily. He closed his eyes, trying to will calmness upon himself. The jester had gone back to sleep by the time he felt in control again.  
  
Nightmares weren't unusual for him. He had them about all sorts of things, but ones about Dimentio were the most terrifying. They used to be about the execution box, but now, of course, he had gone through something even worse. He couldn't even think about eating,  _regular eating_ , without feeling fear shiver down his spine. It was going to be a hard thing to get over, if he even could.  
  
He couldn't go back to sleep, so instead he watched the numbers on the digital clock (with a green display, naturally) slowly tick by as morning drew closer. He took the time to think, as he usually did when he had nothing to focus on.  
  
He'd been here for a little over a month now. Thirty-four days, to be exact. Still, no one had noticed he was missing. Mario was still away, and no one ever went to their house unless they wanted something from Mario. It hurt, as it had been hurting for years. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered to live like that, but, as always, he could never think of a solution.  
  
He remembered what Dimentio had asked about why he wanted to go back. As time passed, he began to hope again. Dimentio never hurt him further, either physically or with words. It looked like he was planning to keep his promise. Maybe he really would see home again.  
  
It wasn't as bad here as he had thought it would be. Dimentio got him anything he requested. The room was now outfitted with a TV, a CD player, and a clock. Recently, he had regained enough motor function to hold a book, and even play a few handheld games. They rarely spoke to each other past necessary questions and statements. Both were afraid to upset the delicate balance that had settled between them.  
  
Dimentio slept on the other side of the bed, a barrier made of spare pillows and blankets keeping them separated. There were no incidents, other than the occasional arm being draped over to the other side. Dimentio did not kiss him again, though Luigi could sometimes see the desire in his eyes, and knew that he wanted to. They were rarely gray and yellow anymore. Where there had been a previously sinister and cold jester, there was now a hurting and confused child. Sometimes Luigi felt bad for him, and had to remind himself of all the terrible things he had done and was capable of doing. It scared him how much desire he could see. He wondered what kept Dimentio from doing what he so clearly wished to.  
  
The best times were when Dimentio came and read to him. He was a wonderful storyteller, his musical voice and theatrical talent bringing the story to vivid life. Just for a little while, the both of them could forget and immerse themselves in another world. The jester would read until his voice became hoarse. Even after Luigi gained the ability to hold a book, he continued to read aloud for him because it was something they both enjoyed.  
  
The days passed languidly. Dimentio mostly left him to his own devices, which was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it gave him far too much time to think. On the other, Dimentio didn't seem to be able to bear being in the same room with him, even when he just sat there or was doing something that didn't involve Luigi at all. Luigi had never seen him look so uncertain, but it was in his body language, his expression, the way his voice trembled sometimes. Dimentio didn't know what was happening any more than he did.  
  
Still, Luigi held on to hope, because he had also never seen Dimentio be so sincere. Sometimes he daydreamed about what it could have been like, if the jester had come out with all of this  _before_  his betrayal. He'd come to realize that it wasn't so much the physical pain and the scary things haunting him all these years. It was the betrayal that had hit him the hardest. It was the worst thing because it hurt the most, in his heart. And now…Dimentio was seeking his forgiveness, and he was incapable of giving it. It felt like he was being torn in two.  
  
He couldn't admit to himself that there was a certain appeal to the idea. It was nice, having someone pay so much attention to him. Before… _that_ … Dimentio had always listened to him when everyone else wrote off his thoughts. He had comforted him, helped him to grow stronger and allayed his doubts about himself. The other minions hadn't spent a lot of time with each other, but Dimentio had visited him every day, sometimes more than once a day, so often that they were both teased for hanging out with each other. Dimentio had only smiled through the childish games, but Luigi thought that it had really bothered him.  
  
He himself had been bothered by it, anyway. What was wrong with having a friend? With his insight into Dimentio's heart, he felt certain that Dimentio  _had indeed_  been his friend. Perhaps Dimentio had called him friend, too. Perhaps he had been the jester's first and  _only_  friend.  
  
There he was, feeling bad for him again. He wondered why the jester made an effort to push people away if he craved companionship. He considered the way Dimentio tiptoed around emotions as if they were land mines and thought it was probably because he viewed things like that as extremely dangerous. They both were and weren't. Any self-respecting book about friendship or love would tell you that they were always worth the pain.  
  
Luigi wouldn't know. Sure, he had a crush on Princess Daisy, but he'd always been too afraid to take it further than shy flirting. Every little caress or kiss had him blushing madly and speaking gibberish. During the times when he had nothing better to do than think, he had come to realize that he had possibly had a crush on Dimentio as well, only it seemed like more than a little crush. It seemed to be more deeply-rooted, and it was why the betrayal had hurt so much. Even years later, it remained an ache in his heart that bothered him whenever he thought about friendship.  
  
So maybe he couldn't help it, then, this sympathy. Dimentio was a monster, but also human. Luigi was the one person who could say they knew him at all.  
  
A subtle movement from the other side of the bed drew him out of his thoughts. Luigi sat himself up with some effort and looked over. Dimentio was curled into a little ball, face pressed into the wall of pillows and hands clenched into fists. A quiet whimper escaped him, and he twitched a little. "N-No… Don't… Please…" he murmured. He was having a nightmare? The idea didn't seem to fit, but Luigi knew everyone had something they were afraid of.  
  
He remembered his days at Castle Bleck, when he woke up screaming every night for some terrible, unknowable reason. Dimentio would come and comfort him, even cuddling with him on some nights. It wasn't so unusual for them to end up sleeping in the same bed, one using the other as a teddy bear. He couldn't specifically recall any nights where he had gone to Dimentio's room. Maybe the jester had come to him for more than one reason.  
  
He kind of wished he'd let Dimentio hold him earlier. It would be nice to close his eyes and pretend those days were back. But now, he just leaned over and gave the jester a poke, producing a sharp gasp as he was startled to awareness. Luigi had time to notice Dimentio was shaking before the jester clambered over their barrier and pressed his face into the crook of Luigi's shoulder, lying partway on top of his chest. He was crying, eyes shut tightly and face wrenched into an expression of desperation.  
  
Luigi blinked, shocked. It took a moment for him to process it, and when he did he gently laid an arm over Dimentio's back, slight pressure making it a hug. Dimentio snuggled closer to him, body racked by silent sobs. After a while, his breathing stopped hitching so much and he calmed.  
  
When it became apparent that the jester wasn't going to move, he said softly, "Hey… Are you ok?"  
  
"…No. I've never been ok," Dimentio responded tersely. He finally sat up and looked Luigi over, putting his hands on the plumber's shoulders as if to reassure himself he was still there. Then, he laid down again, back to Luigi but still touching his side.  
  
Luigi could move away if he wanted to, but didn't, curious. "What did you have a nightmare about?"  
  
Dimentio chuckled, but the sound was dull. "Do you really want to know the sort of things that scare a person like me?"  
  
Luigi stayed silent, keeping his eyes on the jester's tense shoulders.  
  
"Alright…" Dimentio sighed. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt…"  


* * *

  
_He waited in the world of nothingness. The complete emptiness of the place disturbed even him. He shuddered, feeling unnerved. He heard footsteps approaching and struggled to put on the smile he always wore. Mr. L unknowingly walked towards his position, looking very beat up and disheartened. His face was bruised, and he wanted nothing more than to tend to it.  
  
He grimaced, feeling an unwanted pain in his heart. This was necessary, he had to remember that! Mr. L would be ok. He hoped he would be. But nothing would ever be the same again. He could only do this telling himself that it was for the best, that he was deep in dangerous territory and had to get himself out. He hadn't known then that once changed the heart could never go back.  
  
_ "I don't know what it is about those guys…" _L muttered to himself._ "But I just can't seem to beat them!"  
  
_It was now or never._ "Aha ha ha. Did they wound your fragile pride, Mr. L? Demolish your robot again?"  
  
_He became visible. Mr. L cocked an eyebrow at him, refusing to take the bait by simply shrugging it off as his usual teasing._ "Oh, it's you, Dimentio. I'm stumped. You'd really think a giant robot would be enough to take care of those heroes." _He sighed, turning away._ "Man… I'm a disgrace… There's no way I could show my face to the count after THIS. I failed again…" _  
  
He bit the words that came to his tongue. His heart pounded in his chest, but he persevered. _ "P-Perhaps that is for the best then…" _He raised his hands and waved them, producing an explosion right at L's feet.  
  
His friend yelped and leapt away. He couldn't take pleasure in the fear he saw in his eyes. _ "Whoa, now! Hey! What are you doing?!" _L snapped, trying to hide the fact that he was afraid.  
  
He didn't know if his expression wavered. _ "You said it yourself… You can't go back to the count now. So… So get lost!" _  
  
Mr. L looked hurt. After all, he had offered encouragement up to now, and suddenly he was saying he was worthless? _ "Haha, not a funny joke, Dimentio! …If I wanted to laugh, your face is inspiration enough!" _he snarled.  
  
He flinched. Had he seen? No. His eyes, yes, but never under the mask. _ "Such temper! Your nostrils, they flare out like the hood of a hissing cobra!" _he said lightly, finding it easier to settle into old habits._ "I can't have you around the count. If I am rid of you, I won't be found out." _A warning for later, if he remembered._ "A-And the others will never find you… Yes… This is my moment to grasp…" _As if he hadn't spent weeks agonizing over this.  
  
Mr. L, whose true name was Luigi, looked at him in disbelief. _ "W-What are you talking about?!"  
  
_Yes, he'd watched him being tortured, his will slowly bent to the count's own. It had taken far longer than he had thought it would. Luigi was strong, and that was why the prophecy hinged on him, the man in green. This would undo the hypnosis. It must be done. But he didn't want to do it. He didn't want to lose him. He couldn't simply teleport him down to the land of the dead. For the Light Prognosticus to succeed, he needed to go back to where he belonged, at his brother's side. He had to take his life and hope that Queen Jaydes would give it back to him. He doubted she would allow the world to be destroyed for the sake of some rules, but his heart trembled at the prospect nonetheless.  
  
_ "It's…"  _He licked his lips and continued._ "It's time for you to take your final bow, Mr. L…" _He flicked his wrist, creating a box around the hapless assassin.  
  
Mr. L pounded on the sides, quivering with terror. He knew what this was, and what was going to happen to him. _ "Y-You've lost your mind, Dimentio! Wh-Why are you doing this?!" _he sobbed.  
  
The sight of his only friend trapped in one of his patented execution boxes… It was almost too much. His expression finally failed as he poised his fingers to snap. _ "Ah ha ha ha…" _he laughed softly, without feeling._ "Shhhh. Don't worry. It…It won't be so bad… I promise…"  
  
"Noooo!"  _L howled, pressing his face and hands against the wall to look pleadingly at him._ "Please don't do this!" _  
  
He managed a tiny smile. _ "I-I'll send those heroes your way soon, just so you'll have someone to play with…" _As if L cared about that! He knew the man in red was his brother, and the block that made him hate him would be gone.  
  
He looked into L's beautiful blue eyes, eyes that were watery and wide with fear. His own eyes stung. _ "I'm sorry…"  
  
"How could you…"  
  
_He bowed his head. He bit his lip, and then…his fingers clicked, and the box was filled with explosions. The screams, the terrible screams… His ears rang with them as tears flowed down his mask to drip onto the floor.  
  
And then… He was gone. The magic walls faded away, and there was nothing left but a small patch of burnt ground and ashes. His legs suddenly gave out, and he fell to his knees. Ash… That couldn't be all that was left. But it was. It was all that ever was.  
  
_ "Ciao… Mr. L…"  _And suddenly, an unknown pain racked his body, and he was crying, the one creature still in existence in this blank world. He knew then that'd he made the wrong choice. Now, there was no alternative to continuing his plan as intended. Or else… Or else there was no chance at all of getting him back._  
  
_But he knew… He knew he'd just ruined it forever, the only thing that had given him real happiness… The only person that had made his heart feel was gone for good._  


* * *

  
Dimentio fell silent. His body had unconsciously curled tighter and tighter as he spoke. He listened to Luigi breathing behind him, Luigi whose life he'd stolen, and had almost stolen a second time. Luigi who said he hated him, and with good reason.  
  
"So… You have nightmares about killing me?"  
  
He nodded, more tears welling up.  
  
Luigi said nothing more for a long time. Then, "…Why did you do it again? Why did you purposefully terrify me and swallow me alive to die a slow death…"  
  
"Because… Because I wanted to believe that Mr. L was separate from you. I wanted to believe that you knew nothing of me, and only saw what everyone else does. And… And because…it's what I've always done." Dimentio closed his eyes. "The world has always hated me. You have no idea what it's like to be so unwanted. It hurts so terribly… It feels good to lash out, to hurt people. If they don't care about me, why should I care about taking a life?"  
  
"…You should have stayed dead."  
  
"Perhaps. It is so unfair, though…to die without ever having been happy."  
  
"Unfair?! W-What about all the people you've hurt or killed!"  
  
"Ah ha ha… I lost the ability to care about others long ago, Luigi… People are either useful or not. It does not matter what they want or care about, only what  _I_  desire."  
  
Luigi slowly shook his head. "No… That's not right… Every person is an individual. There's no one like them and once they're gone, they're gone forever…"  
  
"…Why does a stranger matter to you?"  
  
"…What about me? I know you want more from me, so why don't you take it?!"  
  
"…"  
  
"Why don't you torture me! Rape me, like I'm sure you've imagined!"  
  
He stiffened. "…I don't know…"  
  
"Well, go on, then! Do what you want!"  
  
His hands clenched.  
  
"What's stopping you?!"  
  
"I DON'T KNOW!" He was suddenly on top of Luigi, sitting on his stomach, straddling him. He had leaned down, grasping his shoulders tightly, right in his face. The plumber paled, beautiful blue eyes going wide with fear.  
  
Dimentio's expression slackened, the rage that flared up within him gone in an instant. He climbed off of the bed and put his face in his hands, stress showing in every inch of his posture. The person you loved should never be afraid of you.  
  
He looked back at Luigi. "Do you know?" Luigi shook his head. The old Dimentio would have done as prodded and taken what he wanted, to teach him a lesson. He felt disgusted with himself. "Then how can you expect me to know?"  
  
Luigi's gaze lowered. "…Why?"  
  
He turned away, feeling tremors creeping up and down his spine. "You don't know what it's like there…"  
  
"I've been to the Underwhere, Dimentio."  
  
He laughed. "You might as well compare that level to the Overthere. No… You never saw the Underwhere's darkest pits. You never experienced…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Pain… Pain like you've never imagined. Eternal torture… That is what awaits the world's worst villains…"  
  
"…You should never have breathed again. You should die."  
  
He swallowed. "N-No… Please… Not again…"  
  
"It's what you deserve."  
  
He turned to Luigi, displaying all his fear for him to see. "But why…" He bowed his head. "Is it so wrong to hate when the entire world hates you…"  
  
Luigi's expression softened. "…Don't you think it's foolish then? To go back to the same things that landed you there?"  
  
Dimentio slouched into his chair with a bitter laugh. "Do you really think Queen Jaydes would bestow any sort of mercy on me after I escaped?" A violent shiver passed through him. "It's impossible, but I know it'll be worse…" His voice broke.  _"I'm so afraid…"_  
  
Luigi noticed a few drops of blood drip to the floor, and realized that Dimentio was clenching his hands so hard that his nails were cutting into his palms.  
  
"There's no escape from death in the end…" Dimentio commented darkly.  
  
Luigi looked from the blood to the twin trails of tears streaming down the jester's two-colored face. He pitied him then. "…It wouldn't hurt to try…"  
  
Dimentio didn't look at him, only continued staring at the floor. "Then… Will you help me?"  
  
"…No."  
  
"…Please…"  
  
"No. I want to go home, and then I want nothing more to do with you, ever."  
  
"I… No…"  
  
Luigi ignored the way his heart ached.  
  
"I'm sorry… I wish this had gone differently… All these years in suffering… It only made me hate more. I do deserve it…if only because I hurt you again. But I was so angry… I'd forgotten, and I'd only wanted revenge… Please forgive me, please! I need you to…"  
  
"…"  
  
"I don't know what these feelings are… They're so strange to me… So reasonless… They hurt so much… But…I feel certain they have to do with love…"  
  
"…You're incapable of love."  
  
"No…I'm not… Won't you show me how?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Please, Luigi… I don't know what to do! …Don't you think we could at least be friends again? Don't you think you could try?"  
  
"…No."  
  
Luigi watched as Dimentio's whole body surrendered to defeat. He stood and turned to leave, trembling. "So there's nothing I can do…"  
  
Luigi shook his head.  
  
Dimentio staggered over to the door and opened it, sending one last pleading glance over his shoulder. Luigi's eyes glimmered with unshed tears, but he only looked away.  
  
Dimentio felt a hot knife stab into his chest and left without another word.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the scene that is the main reason for the rape warning, so look out those who are sensitive to that. It's marked with a "X~X~" on both ends so you know where it is. It's nothing graphic, but better to be safe than sorry.

10  
  
Dimentio didn't come back for a long time. Luigi's stomach growled at him, but he ignored it. The future looked more uncertain than ever. He didn't know what had happened, why he had gotten so angry. It was a really stupid idea to goad your captor into hurting you.  
  
He tried to sleep for a while, but the hunger pangs were fierce. He called for Dimentio, but he didn't come. He kneaded his bed sheets nervously, trying to decide what to do. Eventually, he decided that he didn't have to put up with Dimentio's emotional bullshit.  
  
He sat up, considering how best to proceed. He twitched his toes and rotated his ankles, testing. They were incredibly stiff, but didn't really hurt anymore. He'd healed almost completely over the past month. Thanks to Dimentio's careful nursing, the burns had gradually turned into scars, which had subsequently faded to a transparent network of white lines all over his body that you could only see if you knew to look for them. Thankfully, he'd been able to start wearing clothes again, though they were baggy now. He'd lost a lot of muscle mass. The worst thing was the mental scars, which could be added to the pile of horrible experiences he'd had over the course of his life.  
  
No, all that was left was physical therapy, really. He knew Dimentio was delaying, procrastinating on purpose. So why not start it himself?  
  
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat there, feeling the strain on his back. This was going to be difficult, but that wasn't going to stop him. He put a tiny bit of weight on his feet, and added more and more, until he was almost standing. He turned over and clutched onto the bed, leaning on it for support even though it wasn't really at a good height for that.  
  
After a moment, he stood all the way, legs shaking violently. His atrophied muscles protested very much, but he was determined to continue. He took an uneven step. His legs gave out and he fell forward. But he didn't hit the ground.  
  
Suddenly, Luigi found himself in Dimentio's arms. The jester had caught him. There was no warmth in the hold though, only stiffness. He was gently pushed back on the bed, where he sat down heavily.  
  
"Are you trying to hurt yourself? Because you will if you try that again," the jester said curtly.  
  
Luigi blushed, realizing that the impeccability of his timing probably meant that he'd been watching the whole time. "No, y-you didn't answer me…" His stomach growled, making it unnecessary to say he was starving.  
  
Dimentio snapped his fingers, causing dinner to appear out of thin air. He handed it to Luigi, who began to eat slowly. Dimentio was making him nervous, with the way he was just standing there, staring. He paused and looked up at the jester. "…What?" When Dimentio didn't respond, he continued, "Why are you staring at me? It's really kind of…" He trailed off, wringing his hands anxiously.  
  
"Why did you try to get up?"  
  
"Look," Luigi said, holding out an arm and tracing the thin white lines on his skin. "I'm all healed now, right? So… D-Don't you think it's time to start physical therapy or something?"  
  
Dimentio's cold expression flickered to fear for a second. He looked away.  
  
Luigi frowned. "Come on. I don't want to be bedridden anymore, so if you aren't gonna help then I'll just do it myself." To prove his point, he put the food aside and tried to stand again, wobbling so much that he immediately fell over a second time.  
  
Dimentio took a step forward and caught him once more. He looked into Luigi's eyes, searching for something that wasn't there. Luigi saw that the jester's eyes were yellow and gray. After weeks of blue, it was a clear sign of the jester's attempts to distance himself emotionally.  
  
He sighed heavily, putting Luigi back on the bed again. "…Very well. But to build strength, you have to start small."  
  
The prospect of regaining freedom, independence, and well-being cheered Luigi up immensely, and he couldn't help the big grin that made its way onto his face.  
  
Dimentio noticed, feeling a chill go down his spine. He considered going against his word and just making the plumber his, forever and ever. But it wasn't right, and he knew it. It would only be a mockery of happiness that way. So he got to work, setting Luigi to the task of small exercises. The ache in his heart grew all the more alongside of his fear.  
  


* * *

  
Two more weeks passed by, slowly and stressfully and in the blink of an eye. Dimentio guided Luigi through the therapy and watched as he grew stronger and stronger. Every glimpse of joy he caught in the plumber's eyes hurt, because it meant he was looking forward to freedom and getting away from him. He still didn't understand, as he never had. What was wrong with him that he wanted to get away so badly? What was wrong with him that made people run away from him?  
  
Luigi graduated to standing quickly, able to walk around the small bedroom. Dimentio gave him a tour of Dimension D, displaying his meager creation for him to see. There was the bedroom, the kitchen, the bathroom where his closet resided, the tiny study filled with bookshelves, and the training room, which was the place where he had brought the heroes to fight. There was one more room, which Dimentio hesitated to show him. But he did, hiding nothing. Luigi shook when he saw it, because this room was for torture. Dimentio said not a word about it, leaving Luigi standing there in the doorway.  
  
Dimentio locked the bedroom door at night, so that Luigi couldn't get out, go to the kitchen, and grab a knife. He no longer shared the bed with him. He couldn't stand to be so near to the object of his desire, so that night, he gathered up all the extra pillows and blankets and made himself a nest out in the hallway.  
  
He could hear it when Luigi screamed at night, in the grip of his powerful nightmares. He didn't get up to comfort him, never again held him or whispered soft words. He was forcing himself to keep his distance. He hoped it would make it easier to let go.  
  
As each day passed, it only grew worse. There was only one route he could take that would give him what he wanted, but he refused to take it. He couldn't bend Luigi's will to his own as Count Bleck had done. He had already watched the man go through that process once, and once was enough. It wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be what he wanted.  
  
He had nightmares of his own, more often than he had had since he was a child. Years of experience helped him to suppress his emotions and stop him from making a peep. He turned into a shell of himself, going through the motions but hardly feeling anything at all.  
  
Because he would keep this promise.  
  
And a promise he had made to himself a long time ago.  
  
The day was fast approaching when it would be time to say goodbye, and he didn't want to, not again. The first time had been terrible, the second even more heartbreaking. He had died the second time.  
  
There was nothing for him. He had engineered his own continue, had stolen a second chance that he didn't earn. When he returned to the Underwhere…and he must… She had threatened… His worst fear would come to pass, a fate that made his soul quake with terror.  
  
Luigi was right, but he'd never been suicidal. He could be ok if only he knew how to make this pain go away!  
  
It came.  
  
Luigi stood in front of him, tall and proud. He was still a little weak, but was perfectly capable of caring for himself now. He had forgotten how short Dimentio was when he didn't levitate. He stood a good head taller than him, the jester only coming up to his chin.  
  
Dimentio felt subdued and afraid. He couldn't hide his despair. His eyes glossed over the insignificant scars, the mostly grown mustache and the messy brown hair. He remembered what he looked like under his clothes, the warmth of his body when he touched him, the happy glimmer he used to be able to put into those blue eyes. He avoided looking at those eyes.  
  
Luigi cleared his throat. "I want to go home," he said slowly and clearly.  
  
Dimentio's shoulders sagged, and a silent sob jolted his body. He should have tried harder! But he'd done everything he could. Luigi had made it clear that the answer was no and would always be no. Again, he remembered the warmth… He'd always craved it, but no one had given it to him. The one thing he truly needed was the thing that had pushed him to desire the destruction of the entire universe, just so he could make the world's crimes against him obsolete.  
  
He looked into Luigi's eyes, pleading without words. They were firm, resolved, and didn't soften. He would fight, if he had to.  
  
Dimentio felt the tears trickling down his mask, and couldn't stop them. With uneven steps, he entered the plumber's personal space. Their chests brushing, he asked only to be held. Luigi didn't move. And then he wanted more.  
  
 **X~X~**  
  
Like flicking a switch, the jester's emotions changed in an instant. Before he knew what he was doing, he had pushed the plumber against a wall. Not harshly, but enough to produce a yelp. He pinned him there, straddling him. Then he was kissing him, softly, desperately. Luigi didn't kiss him back, of course.  
  
He became rougher as the pain in his heart grew with each beat, body trembling. He couldn't help himself, couldn't hold it back any longer. It was now or never. He got as close to Luigi as he could, holding him tightly, moaning at the feeling of another body pressed against his. He shivered, waves of lust crashing down on him and destroying any further thoughts on right and wrong and promises.  
  
Luigi didn't have time to react before he was sufficiently trapped. He barely struggled, paralyzed. His heart pounded with fear, hating the way his body was responding against his will. It was hard not to, when the jester so passionately planted kisses along his jaw line and on his pulse points. He  _liked_  the way it felt, the fluttery way his stomach was turning over and over with wild abandon.  
  
Luigi's hands slowly came up and circled Dimentio in an embrace. He felt fingers running gently through his hair as the jester grinded up against him. He sighed soundlessly as a feather of heat ran through his body. Then he felt something pressing into his stomach, and realized that Dimentio had gained an erection. He had half of one himself.  
  
He shuddered, realizing what was happening; what he was doing. This was what he was afraid of! Struggling to keep his thoughts focused, he put his hands on Dimentio's chest and pushed. "S-Stop!" Dimentio continued to trail light kisses along his collarbone, as if he hadn't heard. He pushed harder, shouting, "D-Dimentio! STOP!"  
  
And he did, going completely stiff as he came to a sudden halt. Dimentio didn't move, face still pressed into Luigi's neck, panting. He started to tremble as he slowly leaned back enough to look Luigi in the eye. Tears immediately began to flow at this final denial.  
  
 **X~X~**  
  
Luigi felt tears of his own well up and escape in response. "…You promised," he said quietly, but strongly.  
  
Dimentio held his gaze for an eternal moment. Something visibly broke within him, and he stumbled away. He stopped a few feet over, turning his back to his former friend. He raised a hand and snapped, the sound piercing the air like a gunshot.  
  
Luigi watched in shock as a portal opened before his eyes. Through it, he could see his own modest house, and his heart skipped several beats. He straightened and took a step, hesitant. Hope against hope, this couldn't possibly be. He looked at Dimentio. The jester slumped with complete defeat.  
  
" _Go home, Luigi…_ "  
  
After a moment, he heard soft footfalls as Luigi walked across the room. He felt his eyes on him again, before there was a shift in the dimensional energy.  
  
He was gone.  
  
Without looking behind him, Dimentio let the gateway close. He only stood there, until what was left of his heart finally finished breaking and he fell to his knees. His forehead hit the carpet, but he didn't feel it. He coiled into a ball, clutching his chest and stomach as endless sobs filled the silence. Pain radiated through him, and he let it out in wailing keens of intense grief and despair. Alone again! Alone  _forever_ …  
  
He had let him go.  
  
He had let him go because he loved him.  
  


* * *

  
Luigi stepped onto the grass. The portal closed silently behind him as he looked around, hardly daring to believe he was home. But he was; the familiar sights and sounds and smells were telling him it was so.  
  
He walked past the mailbox and up to the front door. He considered knocking, but just opened it in the end. He shuddered a little as relief flooded him. He was here. He was home…free…alive, and in relatively good health.  
  
Something caught his eye, and he stopped. Spread out all over the kitchen table were…missing person posters. His name was on it, a picture of him filling a third of the paper.  
  
Mario walked in through the doorway to the living room, looking over the papers in his hands. He halted abruptly, dropping them on the floor when he saw Luigi standing there, lost.  
  
In a single bound, Mario was across the room and pulling his brother into a tight hug. Luigi blinked as Mario squeezed him a little too hard and even began to cry. "Where have you been!" the red-clad plumber asked, holding him by the shoulders and tearfully examining him at arms length.  
  
Luigi's expression hardened, as did his heart.  
  
Dimentio had lied to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End
> 
> ...
> 
> I'm only kidding. This does mark the end of the first 'half' of the story, though.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

11  
  
It all felt like some kind of sick and twisted dream. That's all it had ever been.  
  
 _"Thanks, bro…" Luigi murmured under his breath as the red-clad plumber departed with a backwards glance. He faced the jester before him, trying to keep the fire in his eyes.  
  
"Ah ha ha ha. How tender. I just squeezed out a tear. Yes… Mario can run along. And if he somehow manages to defeat Count Bleck on his own… all the better! And so I strike, like an unseen dodgeball in an echoing gymnasium!" Dimentio monologued dramatically.  
  
Luigi tensed, ready to fight, but as soon as Mario was gone, the jester straightened. His demeanor changed to a less threatening one in an instant._  
  
Alone.  
  
Gone.  
  
Don't go.  
  
Please.  
  
 _After a moment, Luigi straightened as well. He couldn't keep a glare off his face, feeling again the all-too-fresh pain of what Dimentio had done to him.  
  
Dimentio noticed. He saw it. "I had to…" he said quietly.  
  
Luigi just shook his head, fists tightening.  
  
"It's your fault, you know…man in green…"  
  
"Yeah? How so?!" he snapped._  
  
How long had he been lying there?  
  
 _"Your fault… It's your fault. I was never made to_ feel _!" the jester hissed disdainfully. "But you… You really do something to me."  
  
"Stop it!"  
  
"And perhaps maybe I do something to you…" He looked thoughtful for a moment, before a brief flicker of pain returned his expression to neutrality._  
  
It hurts.  
  
I'm sorry.  
  
 _Luigi leapt at him, intent on making him feel everything he'd been feeling since he'd woken up in the Underwhere, alone. Dimentio easily caught his fist and threw him back onto the floor, wagging a finger at him. "Ah ah ah… I don't wish to fight you."  
  
"Too bad." He wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked up at the jester hovering menacingly above him._  
  
Was he still breathing?  
  
 _"It doesn't have to be this way…" Dimentio said sadly. "I really do like you." He carefully offered him a hand up. "I can ensure your safety… Come with me, Mr. L… No…Luigi. Come with me… Please."_  
  
Too late. It was too late.  
  
Gone.  
  
 _Luigi stared at him. Very briefly, the gray and yellow eyes flickered blue, so quickly that he wasn't sure he had truly seen it. He stared at the hand. For a moment, he was honestly tempted. Some days, he dreamed that he could just leave all his misery behind, and start anew. And here was someone offering that very thing.  
  
But could he trust him? He remembered all the lies, the subtle manipulation. Had any of that been real?  
  
No._  
  
He was a fool to hope.  
  
This was the price for such emotions.  
  
 _He knocked the hand away, standing on his own. The life of every living being small or great was only an afterthought.  
  
"No. I don't trust you, Dimentio."  
  
"You used to…"  
  
"Well, you kind of threw that trust to the dogs, didn't you."  
  
Dimentio had the poor taste to look ashamed of himself. What a miserable actor he was. "Please…"_  
  
He was weak, lying on the floor like this, hugging his chest as if to hold himself together.  
  
Tears were weak. He couldn't stop.  
  
 _"Go to hell." He threw another punch, which was again blocked. Dimentio didn't release his fist this time, but squeezed it so that the tiny bones ground together painfully. Luigi tried punching with his other hand, but that one was also caught.  
  
Having captured both of Luigi's hands, Dimentio drifted closer until their noses were almost touching. He cocked his head and said, "Very well. Let's go together, shall we?"  
  
Luigi blinked. "W-What?" He was suddenly released, and tried to dart away, but bumped into something solid. He glanced over his shoulder and realized with a yelp that he was in another golden execution box. Only this time…Dimentio was in here with him._  
  
He got to his knees, struggling not to be sick.  
  
There was no hope. The damage was too much.  
  
 _He looked over at the jester with a startled gasp, blue eyes wide. Dimentio's expression was completely unreadable. He slowly raised his right hand, fingers poised to snap.  
  
"N-No! What are you doing?!"  
  
Dimentio said nothing, calmly meeting Luigi's gaze.  
  
"S-Stop! Not again! Please, not again!"  
  
A demented smile started to appear on the jester's face as he came closer.  
  
Luigi backed away, pressing himself into the corner of the box, trembling. He was too afraid to do more than breathe, "Why you too…"_  
  
He knocked some things over, trying to stand…  
  
 _Dimentio knelt down and grasped Luigi's face with both hands, fingers pressing indents into the back of his head and his thumbs directly over the plumber's pulse points. There was something very dangerous in his mismatched eyes. His lips lightly grazed along his former friend's cheek as he delicately whispered into his ear, "You should have said yes."  
  
Luigi heard the snap. Then everything was fire and pain and screaming. Oh Grambi, it hurt! It hurt even more than the first time! His consciousness slipped away from him, and he fell gratefully into darkness._  
  
His legs refused to hold his weight. Weak.  
  
 _Dimentio listened to the dying screams with a conflicted smile, a frightening unknowable force running a cold finger down his spine. The bursts of heat going off all around him were unnerving, but certainly not the cause of this small but lingering pain inside of him. He hadn't meant to do it this way, or make it hurt so much. He hated being rejected._  
  
Why wouldn't his stupid heart quit pounding like this?  
  
 _The magic walls faded, and the smoke cleared, revealing that Luigi was perfectly unharmed, only unconscious. He'd never attempted an illusion like that before, but Luigi's expectation of what was to come helped it reach fruition. He sat down next to the unmoving form and folded his legs under him, simply looking for a time._  
  
…What now?  
  
Alone.  
  
For eternity.  
  
 _Luigi's eyes moved haphazardly under his eyelids, and he occasionally murmured something incomprehensible. Nightmares. Dimentio shuffled a little closer, and wasn't quite sure why he felt sorry. Maybe it was because, for once, he had been the one to break things off. The one person who had accepted him just the way he was…  
  
He took off his glove and gently, very, very gently, ran his fingers along Luigi's face, through his bangs and over his closed eyes and along his chin, skimming his well-groomed mustache, just touching for the sake of it. No one ever let him touch them when they were awake. He sighed, savoring the warmth coming off the living skin before withdrawing. For a time, he watched the chest expand and contract with his breathing._  
  
He was shaking. What now? What was there for him?  
  
 _Many would consider this creepy, but he didn't care. He was imprinting this to memory, to relish, just in case. Human interaction and such alien feelings were so rare for him. He was also stalling, because, again, he didn't wish to do this. And again, there was no alternative.  
  
He shifted and sat cross-legged, carefully cradling Luigi's head in his lap. Absentmindedly, he stroked the brown locks of hair, a sharp and bittersweet something bubbling in his chest. He stared at a distant wall, deliberating. What would happen if he abandoned his notion of a perfect world? Perfection was a foolish concept, but it was the only word that fit his desire. He was a fool, he knew, for railing against the whole world._  
  
He hated this. He hated himself, everything, everyone, this rotten existence.  
  
 _Count Bleck would die, surely. There was no other way to close The Void before it consumed everything. But he hadn't planned for this. And there was no guarantee of anything… It could be so long, farewell, good luck, hope to never see you again. There was no way to earn back that precious trust. At least, when he had won, Luigi would have to accept him, because there would be no one else in existence for a long time except for the two of them.  
  
Yes, this was the best way. Nothing could go wrong. A guarantee._  
  
He was too afraid to die.  
  
She said… She said…  
  
 _His hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, perfectly round seed. He removed Luigi's green cap and put it aside, clutching the seed in a tight fist. He gently bent Luigi's head forward a bit, other hand hovering above his scalp. Who knew what sort of damage this could do. Who knew what other fragile structures he was destroying.  
  
He looked again at the sleeping face, scrunched with slight fear. Yes, he could make the nightmares go away._  
  
He would cease to exist in everyone's perceptions but his own.  
  
 _He pressed the seed into Luigi's hair, coaxing it to grow with a little magic. The roots emerged and poked into the sensitive skin, drawing blood and drinking it. Luigi winced and whimpered, and Dimentio shivered a little. With the sprout planted and well hidden, he replaced Luigi's cap but didn't get up. He hugged Luigi a little tighter as the roots burrowed deeper. Luigi moaned and squirmed, in pain. "Sshh, it's alright… Everything will be fine…"  
  
He hoped._  
  
Like he never existed at all.  
  
Cruel. Permanent.  
  
Alone.  
  
 _He had tried, he really had. He didn't really want Mario and his friends to join him, but he had done his best to sway them, regardless, because Luigi cared about them, too. But that butterfly…Tippi… She had blocked his every move, having a counterargument to everything he offered.  
  
So now Luigi would come alone. He had to._  
  
He fell over and curled into himself, trembling.  
  
 _Dimentio leaned down and softly kissed Luigi's forehead. His stomach was twisting and churning with heavy dread. He slowly stood and left his friend there to be found by the others, knowing they would make an appearance soon. Now, it was time to make his final preparations…_  
  
Please come back.  
  
Make it go away.  
  
Please…  
  
I'm so scared…  
  


* * *

  
He heard someone crying. Was…was that him? Stop…stop sobbing, you fool, you weakling…  
  
He couldn't. He'd done everything wrong.  
  
He was horribly thirsty. Dehydrated. Starving. How long…?  
  
He felt weak, bodily, mentally. Could he recover from this? He had to, or die.  
  
What was this? Why had he opened himself up to this?  
  
Numb. Numb was good. Numb was nice. There was no pain with numb.  
  
He got up slowly, carefully. He was walking to the kitchen. The sink, water…  
  
Good. Fuel was good. He needed to eat.  
  
What had happened? …Nothing. It was nothing to him.  
  
Alone? Of course. Nothing had changed. This wasn't any different from before.  
  
He could heal. Let's pretend.  
  
Clear away the reminders. Acknowledge nothing.  
  
Things to occupy. Familiar, bad things. He itched for them.  
  
No. Yes. Not right. Who cares. Everyone does. Everyone but him.  
  
Everything was blending together. He had no perception of time.  
  
He felt nothing. Good, familiar nothing.  
  
Smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confused? Try reading only the un-italicized lines.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, literally all I had when I went into this chapter was "Super Dimentio stuff here go". Then everything went more to hell than I thought it could. I finished it and looked back over it and was like "Jesus where the heck did all this come from?"
> 
> This is another short chapter, but again it turned out how I wanted it to. Better, actually. It's a mess (god I have never used so many line breaks ever), but it's one of my favorites and I'm proud of it.

12  
  
 _"…Why do you smile like that?" Mr. L asked, turning to look at him critically.  
  
"Like what?" he answered.  
  
L shrugged. "Like that. Is something wrong?"  
  
He laughed and said no. There was no need to tell him all the things the smile hid. But why had he asked if something was the matter?  
  
"It's…kinda creepy, you know…" L said, rubbing the back of his head.  
  
This was the first time they'd been alone in a room together, to Mr. L's knowledge. He was clearly nervous, especially when the other minions seemed to steer clear of the apparently psychotic jester. Now was the time to start planting the first seeds of loyalty and trust.  
  
"Yes, I'm aware. People annoy me."  
  
"Well, geez…"  
  
"You, however, I find to be quite interesting. Where did you say you came from?"  
  
"I-I don't really know… I woke up here, I guess. I've got a serious case of amnesia."  
  
Yes, and a very forced one. "Oh, really? So you have no idea who you are?"  
  
Mr. L blinked and looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. "Yes. No?"  
  
He put a hand on his shoulder; a friendly gesture. "Well, how about we stick together?"  
  
L looked confused and pulled away. "What? Why?" He thought this guy didn't like people, and he didn't look like the sort who kept friends.  
  
He shrugged nonchalantly. "The other minions don't like me, and I don't think they like you either."  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"Insulting them right off the bat isn't a good way to make friends."  
  
"Oh, right…" He still wasn't sure what had inspired his earlier confidence and cocky charisma. It hadn't felt quite right to say those things. "So… You're saying you wanna be friends or something."  
  
L failed to notice the way he flinched slightly. "…Sure, why not."  
  
_

* * *

_  
"Why must you always smile like that? Stop it!" Luigi pleaded, cast into a dark corner of the monstrosity's mind.  
  
Dimentio turned to him, shaking. "Why…? Why?! Tell me what you know of suffering!"  
  
"Please… Please stop! You don't need to do this!"  
  
"Yes… Yes I do… There is nothing else for me…"  
  
"Dimentio…"  
  
He focused on the battle in front of him, reveling in his invincibility. Nothing could stop him now. He would have his own perfect world, or die trying. He started to laugh and couldn't stop.  
  
Luigi cringed away, the insane sounds ringing in his ears. He could barely think. The plant whose roots had embedded themselves into his very brain compelled him to obey, to cease fighting. But he couldn't. That was his brother down there! His brother, whom he'd so unjustly been made to hate! He screamed, body collapsing into a seizure.  
  
Dimentio spared him a glance. He saw how much pain Luigi was in… He more than saw it, he felt it, all his reasons for continuing to fight even if it tore his sanity apart. He shook his head sadly and returned to the task at hand. Forgiveness would be a long time coming.  
  
_

* * *

_  
Luigi didn't gasp like the others when Dimentio made his appearance. He hadn't died, so neither had Dimentio. It had been a setup for something. The pain had been so real, but it wasn't. Neither was anything else that jester had ever done. It had all been a setup to gain his trust, to try and twist his loyalty away from the people who deserved it. It hurt, and he hated it.  
  
Suddenly though, he felt that rage wither away. Dimentio beckoned to him, and everything else was gone too. That bastard! He was controlling him somehow, taking away his free will! He was helpless to stop himself from flailing his arms around like an idiot. Soon after, he was sucked into a void and was unable to scream.  
  
He woke slowly, finding himself in a dark place.  
  
_

* * *

_  
Dimentio heard an agonized cry and turned around just in time to see the roots pull free of the skin. He gasped as Luigi laid prone, bleeding and panting, the Floro Sprout clenched in a tense fist. "I-Impossible…" he whispered in complete disbelief.  
  
Luigi found him, eyes dulled with pain. "I'm not…your slave…"  
  
"No! H-How did you-"  
  
He was cut off when their dark little world shook. He almost lost his balance. _What was that…?! _  
  
_

* * *

_  
Luigi saw what was happening, felt the jester's mad intentions. Why was his heart filled to the brim with suffering? Then he realized…it wasn't his own anguish he felt.  
  
He began to scream inside, and couldn't stop. He pushed at it, pushed away from the numbness and the torment and the broken heart even as he pulled, accepting the physical pain, the fire that ignited each and every nerve ending. It built until everything was finally released, and he fell to the floor. He was empty.  
  
Empty but for the way each heartbeat hurt.  
  
And he met the jester's eyes, and saw all the fear in them.  
  
He knew he would win.  
  
_

* * *

_  
Luigi started to crawl towards him, and he backed away, trembling. A surge of force from outside made him fall to his knees, empty. The invincibility…the certainty, it was all gone. Impossible. This shouldn't be happening…  
  
The blows came. He couldn't move even as Luigi drew ever nearer. The body was fighting without a pilot now. It was losing.  
  
Oh Grambi…  
  
This couldn't be it!  
  
_…He was going to die. _  
  
_

* * *

 _  
Luigi pushed himself to his knees and crept towards the jester, struggling to breathe past the tightness in his chest. Dimentio moved away from him, terrified of him. He couldn't help the smile that slipped onto his face. Yes, that's right. He was strong. He wouldn't stand for this.  
  
He felt it when the power of their body decreased dramatically, and the smile widened. _Mario… _  
  
He was the one laughing now.  
  
_

* * *

 _  
_Weak. Worthless. Weak. Worthless. _It was all he could think, the mantra of his life. He didn't know if he said anything. He might even be screaming.  
  
He closed his eyes and leaned away as Luigi reached him, an insane grin painting his face with wild colors. He felt hands tearing at his chest, scratching through his colorful garb and drawing red.  
  
He was shaking. He couldn't think.  
  
_

* * *

_  
Luigi watched the jester bleed, desiring more. Dimentio did nothing, completely overwhelmed by his fear. Just like he used to be. It was pathetic, those tears running from his curved eyes.  
  
He felt the body's pain. It didn't matter. He could prevent Dimentio from escaping, and that's what he was going to do. He didn't care if he went down with him.  
  
He channeled the hurt, the betrayal, and felt stronger. He loomed over the frightened man, feeling nothing but raw anger as he started to punch and kick and tear.  
  
_

* * *

_  
The pain was coming from three sources now. It was all too much. He curled into a ball, trying to protect himself, to no avail. He discovered he was crying, and not for any reason anyone expected.  
  
The most dangerous pain, the pain inside, increased.  
  
He made no effort to make it stop. He deserved this.  
  
Fire licked around them, and he finally opened his eyes. Luigi was there. It didn't look like he intended to escape.  
  
Now he wasn't just afraid for himself.  
  
_

* * *

_  
Dimentio tackled him suddenly, pinning him to the ground with his own body. He struggled, failing to notice the rising heat of the tiny black world.  
  
Then he was falling, an unknown force expelling him. He crashed into the ground, everything he'd just been experiencing faded away to nothing.  
  
He opened his eyes. It was still black, but there were spots of color nearby. "Bro!" someone shouted, and a man in red hurried over, carefully cradling him in his arms.  
  
Yes, he was Luigi, and that was Mario, and Princess Peach, and Bowser, and Tippi. He watched the last remnants of their body explode and turn to dust, Dimentio's voice wailing in anger and fear as he died.  
  
He would never know that his enemy's last action was to save him.  
  
_

* * *

_  
It was dark, and he was falling. There was so much pain, inside and out. He hit the cold ground with a sickening jolt. He couldn't move, couldn't escape, and soon enough he heard footsteps coming towards him.  
  
He was again consumed by terror as a powerful voice began to read off the charges. _The man known as Dimentio…for your crimes against humanity and all worlds, I sentence you to an eternity of suffering in the darkest pits of The Underwhere, where your soul will lay forgotten. Never again will you see the light. _  
  
The words rang in his soul as everything disappeared. He didn't know where he was or what was happening.  
  
Suddenly, a line of fire burned itself into his back, and he cried out. The fire built, never stopping, unceasing. He tried to run away from it, but couldn't move.  
  
No escape.  
  
It isn't fair! he tried to scream.  
  
Why!  
  
No escape.  
  
Why!  
  
No escape.  
  
Why!  
  
All his life.  
  
He had done nothing.  
  
Contributed nothing.  
  
Only took away.  
  
He was truly worthless.  
  
_

* * *

_  
Somewhere, there was a flash of light, and two brave souls were whisked away as purity and despair destroyed each other.  
  
Somewhere, there was a tiny spark of hate left over, a small piece of agony attached to an immortal book. It lingered in the dark castle, forgotten and lost._   
  


* * *

  
…  
  
…  
  
…  
  


* * *

  
Hate.  
  
Hate.  
  
Hate.  
  
Hate you.  
  
Hate me.  
  
Hate the world.  
  
You hate me.  
  
The world hates me.  
  
I hate everything.  
  
 _Kill._  
  


* * *

  
He remembered the pain that wasn't his own, and the hurt that was. How could there be so many kinds of fire?  
  
The dark bothered him now more than ever. He never consciously remembered it.  
  
There was a big empty space in his soul. He thought about friendship, and people who shouldn't be alive.  
  
It was so hard to fall asleep.  
  
It had been months. He still waited.  
  
He didn't know what he wanted.  
  
He didn't know what he felt.  
  
There were too many questions.  
  
Everything seemed so murky and dull now, even more than before. He was more alone than ever. Even though he'd been missing for some time, his brother still left him. Still smothered him. He was sick.  
  
It was hard to believe so much time had gone by. The days seemed like nothing. What was he longing for?  
  
It was like nothing had even happened. Some part of him wished for it back. That part was insane.  
  
It was unconscious, the worst nightmare. He never remembered it, but his heart did. The time when their agonies had bled into each other and they lost themselves. A part of him had always lingered.  
  
He wondered what was broken.  
  
He wondered what made the other scream into the abyss.  
  
He wondered what real darkness was like.  
  
He wondered a lot of things. Too many things. It was unhealthy to be trapped in an endless cycle.  
  
He opened his eyes. The bedroom was dark. His brother was gone.  
  
He blinked, and ice stabbed at his heart. He was there, with his cold, cruel smile.  
  
A black-gloved hand pressed one finger against his lips. He couldn't breathe.  
  
The hand crept up his cheek to the back of his head, where fingers tangled into his hair and held tight.  
  
They pulled. His head tilted back, exposing his throat. The smile came forward as something frigid pressed into the tender flesh.  
  
The other's lips gently brushed against his. With a smooth motion, red came pouring out.  
  
Everything ebbed away.  
  
Everything except laughter.  
  


* * *

  
He pushed against the dark, scrambling, drowning. He sprang upright, hands clutching at his neck.  
  
It was ok. He was fine. He wasn't dying.  
  
He wasn't here.  
  
The first rays of dawn shone through the window. He was the only one in the room.  
  
He laid back down, breathing heavily.  
  
It wasn't the first time he'd dreamt of being murdered by Dimentio.  
  
It terrified him.  
  
It was a very real possibility.  
  
He was surprised to still be alive.  
  
Because if Dimentio wanted him to suffer, he would.  
  
He stayed in bed well into the day, trembling.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

13  
  
In time, the fear dulled, and he finally got up. His stomach grumbled, but first he did his exercises to maintain the muscle mass he'd had to rebuild.  
  
He never did tell Mario what had happened while he'd been missing. He should have, but he didn't, and he didn't know if it was solely because he couldn't begin to put it into words. Eventually, Mario stopped asking. Luigi could sometimes catch him watching him warily, as if he was afraid he was going to hurt himself. It wasn't an entirely unfounded fear.  
  
Luigi did his best to go back to a semblance of normalcy. It was difficult, when he felt like death was hovering nearby all the time. Maybe he was, invisibly. Luigi had no way of finding out. He never felt like anyone was watching him, but there was still some kind of pressure in the air. He was certain the jester couldn't let him go, just like that. Especially if it was all true.  
  
He shuddered, remembering the touch of gentle lips upon his skin and soft whispers in his ear. He still didn't know how to feel. There shouldn't be room for more than disgust and fear. He supposed it never was a simple thing.  
  
As he made himself breakfast, he started to daydream. Again, there was a certain appeal to the jester, and he did pity him. He couldn't imagine living a life without kindness or family. He'd had his brother to support him all his life, but Dimentio had not a thing to his name but his villainy. No one knew who he was or where he came from. Did he even know what real happiness felt like? Did he do atrocious things to share the pain and try to fill the void?  
  
He recalled a bit of what he'd dreamed last night; the agony he'd felt during the final battle for the universe. Not physical, but emotional. He knew it hadn't completely been his own. What that could do to a person's soul…  
  
His thoughts drifted to what had happened just before he'd been released. It hadn't been… _bad_ , per se, because Dimentio apparently knew the meaning of stop. He could have easily ignored him. It made him wonder if maybe…the jester really did have feelings for him.  
  
He didn't like to think that he might return them.  
  
He'd never felt anything like this before.  
  
It was really, really stupid, because Dimentio had hurt him badly. He looked at the scars etched faintly on the back of his hands. He had 100% intended to take away his life and those of the people he cared about. Just because he had changed his mine didn't mean the original intent was absolved. It was easy to put those terrifying weeks behind him and remember only the good bits. The mind didn't like thinking about the bad. He had to remind himself every day that he was extremely lucky to be alive.  
  
And who knew what menagerie of crimes he'd committed in the past. How many lives taken? How many people left just as broken and shattered? What kind of insanity drove someone to desire the snuffing out of every single living thing in the universe?  
  
He was extremely dangerous and unbalanced. Luigi wished Dimentio was still dead so he wouldn't have to be afraid. He waited every day for some news of him, for something to happen to someone he was close to, to be snatched away again and be taken to some horrible fate.  
  
Every day that passed where nothing happened only added to the stress. He tried to shake them away, but he was no stranger to dark thoughts.  
  
He should really try to focus on the good things he was grateful to have. Some days, it was hard. Like today. Today wasn't a good day.  
  
He went into the living room, meaning to distract himself with some TV while he ate. He stopped dead in his tracks, the plate falling to the floor and breaking. The masked man sitting on the sofa didn't move.  
  
After a moment of terrified silence, Luigi tried to creep backwards out of the room, but a cold, powerful voice commanded, "Don't run."  
  
His blue eyes widened ever further, and then he took off down the hallway, sprinting for the back door in the kitchen. The man suddenly appeared in front of him and forced him back against a wall.  
  
Luigi felt a hand snake into his hair and force his head back. He whimpered when a glittering blade lightly touched the delicate skin of his neck. He could sense the heat of the magic it was made of.  
  
Dimentio floated above him, his porcelain mask twisted by rage. He held Luigi's gaze, blue eyes truly icy. Luigi's pulse pounded in his throat, his heart beating desperately. It wasn't a dream this time.  
  
He waited for the swift movement that would end his life. It didn't come. Sweat trickled down his face. He was unable to do anything but watch the jester's expression change as he wrestled with himself. Rage turned to conflict, then sorrow, and finally anguish.  
  
The knife disappeared, the magic dissipating. The fingers loosened their firm hold on him, then fell away altogether. Dimentio turned away.  
  
Luigi felt at his throat, finding no trickle of blood. His breathing was out of control.  
  
"I still can't do it…" The jester shook his head, voice a whisper. "One look in those beautiful eyes of yours and I…" A hand covered his mouth, tears escaping. He leaned his forehead against the opposite wall, shaking.  
  
Luigi stayed where he was, feeling something flare inside of him. His hands clenched into fists. Without warning, he flung himself at the jester, screaming. Dimentio turned, but didn't move out of the way. Luigi pinned the smaller man, fingers digging into thin shoulders.  
  
Dimentio could easily escape. He didn't bother. Their eyes locked once more, and this time it was the deep blue ones that were angry.  
  
"You have NO right to torment me like this!" Luigi hissed. "After all the things you've done, you expect me to forget about all the suffering you put me through and forgive you?! I'm sick of being scared of you, and I'm sick of waiting for you to come back and kill me, or worse! Who do you think you are, that you can treat people like toys! I don't care what kind of hardships you've been through, because they're not excuses for being a demon!"  
  
"So what do you want me to do then! I can't take any of it back!" Dimentio snapped at him.  
  
"Just die! Die, and stay dead this time! Then I won't have to worry anymore that you'll hurt my friends or me! Then I'll finally be  _free_  of you!"  
  
"What are you waiting for then…" Dimentio whispered.  
  
Luigi's jaw clenched. He punched the jester square in the face, resulting in a loud crack. Dimentio crumpled to the ground, hairline fractures forming a spider's web in the white side of his mask. He stared up at the plumber, crying soundlessly. "Go on then. End this wretched existence of mine," he choked out.  
  
Luigi blinked. "You want  _me_  to kill you?" He had never known anyone else who clung so stubbornly to life. For him to ask this…  
  
"Who else has the right to?" Dimentio answered solemnly. Who else had the right to send him to the most hellish fate he could imagine, than the person he'd hurt the most. He looked away, waiting.  
  
Luigi crouched down, leaning over him. "You can never pay enough. You can't fix the damage you've caused me, or replace the lives you've stolen."  
  
"… _I know_ …"  
  
He calmed a little, his anger beginning to exhaust itself. "You're serious."  
  
Dimentio struggled to sit up. "I just want this pain to go away," he said, knowing that it wouldn't. "No matter what I do, it will never be enough." He stifled a sob. "I will never know what the light is like, what happiness is like, what it's like to not be alone. I don't deserve to know…"  
  
"So you want to make me a murderer like you," Luigi said tersely, straightening.  
  
"No," he shook his head. "I don't know who else would, and…and I'm not brave enough to do it myself."  
  
Luigi paused, realizing the weight of the situation. He became aware of the jester's appearance. His motley hung loosely on him, and he looked completely drained and exhausted. He'd used up his last bit of energy trying to fuel his murderous fury. He was truly pitiful now. He was already dying, withering away. Was his inward pain that severe?  
  
"What would you have done if you'd killed me just now?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know." For once in his life, he'd had no plans, only emotion. "I'm alone, Luigi. I always have been, and I always will be." He drew his knees to his chest and hid his face in them. "Please… It is the last thing I will ever ask of you."  
  
The brothers often had to fight to the death. Some villains just wouldn't give up. This wasn't really so different, because if Dimentio were left alive, there was no telling what he would do. And…maybe it would put him out of his misery.  
  
" _Ok_ …"  
  
When Dimentio did nothing, Luigi sat beside him, resting his arms on his knees. He didn't know if he could really do it. In the heat of battle when someone was trying to kill you was one thing, but taking a life in cold blood, no matter how twisted, was a different matter.  
  
"…I want to know something of what you went through…" Dimentio murmured, voice dulled by fatigue. "I need to understand what it's like, to be on the other side of things."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Dimentio lifted his head, listlessly seeing nothing of the decorative carpet in front of him. "It's only right, isn't it? Like justice, to be made as helpless as my victims? You shouldn't make it quick…"  
  
Luigi didn't understand what he was getting at. "You want to suffer? Why?"  
  
"It's only fair. I am a bringer of suffering, and now I must receive it."  
  
Feeling weary, Luigi sighed. "Look, I don't know if I can really…" He snorted. "You always ask for the most difficult things, don't you."  
  
"You said it yourself. It's all I deserve." He shook his head, closing his eyes.  
  
Luigi said nothing more, just listened to the breathing of the person beside him. What was he going to do? It was his duty to rid the world of evil, but everywhere he looked, the lines were blurred. Life was such a sacred thing…so would it be right to vanquish someone who'd ruined so much of it?  
  
"It's things like this that hurt the most…" Dimentio said softly. "The almost peaceful moments… They hurt because I know I'll never have more than this. Because it isn't something you can just take… I don't regret most of the things I do, but maybe if I'd just…" He trailed off, fingers tightening on calves. "It's too late for me, and it has been for a long time." He smiled a bitter smile. "People don't change. They can try, but their essence will always remain the same. And I wonder…"  
  
The jester looked at Luigi, eyes inexpressibly sad. "…Am I made for pain? Is this my only purpose?" His gaze fell as he hid away and held himself tighter. His gaunt frame was wracked by the sobs he struggled to hold back.  
  
Again, Luigi felt sympathy and compassion for this despicable creature. A part of him wanted to help and comfort and be friends again. Always, there was the voice of doubt in the back of his mind, insisting that he was being tricked, manipulated. He needed to protect himself. "So what do you want me to do?" he asked.  
  
"Cast me into the darkness, where my fate might be fulfilled." The jester quietly took the plumber's ungloved hand and began to lightly trace the scars there.  
  
Spine tingling, Luigi pulled away, examining the transparent marks. He gasped as a sudden realization hit him. "T-That way?"  
  
Dimentio nodded, swallowing heavily. "Y-Yes. It's fair, that you get to do to me what I did to you."  
  
Luigi slowly shook his head, uncertain. Dimentio laboriously stood and began to walk away. Luigi got up quickly. "W-Wait! Right now?!"  
  
There was a snap of fingers, and the stairs to the attic unfolded before them. Dimentio looked over his shoulder, waiting for him to follow. "If you wish. Let us decide upon the terms, at least." He began to climb the stairs, and it wasn't until he'd disappeared in the shadows did Luigi go after him.  
  
He found him standing next to a dusty unused bookshelf, a look of concentration on his face. A light shone from behind the shelf, and when it faded, his legs wobbled and he almost fell. Luigi unconsciously went to catch him, and stiffened awkwardly when there was no need. Dimentio ignored him and tried to push the bookshelf out of the way. Luigi did it instead when he was too weak to do so.  
  
Behind the shelf, a door had been created. Dimentio opened it, revealing that it led to Dimension D. Luigi's jaw dropped. Dimentio went inside, but he hesitated to follow. Was he going to be trapped there again? He stepped onto the awful green carpet, expecting the door to slam and lock behind him. It didn't, hanging open as the two made their way down the hallway.  
  
Dimentio went into his study, summoning a piece of parchment, an inkwell, and an old-fashioned quill pen. He sat and started to quickly scribble words, pausing every few seconds to think of the proper phrases to use. Luigi looked around idly, listening to the scratching of the quill.  
  
When it ceased, he went over to the desk, standing on the opposite side. Dimentio turned the parchment around so that he could look at it. Behind the ink, Luigi could see strange symbols patterning the vellum. "This is a magical contract. Once signed, the terms of the deal are literally impossible to break, and cannot be altered after the fact. You don't have to sign it, but it will ensure that no one can change their minds."  
  
Luigi nervously picked it up and carefully read through the whole thing. He shook his head. "N-No, I can't do this, Dimentio, not so absolutely… W-What if I…"  
  
Understanding, Dimentio took the contract back and wrote more. Luigi nodded at the changes, unsurely approving of the addendum; a way out for him if he couldn't go through with it.  
  
Dimentio signed his name without pause. "Luigi, will you do this for me?"  
  
Luigi didn't answer, afraid. Certain phrases jumped out at him.  _To be swallowed whole… Shall not escape… Until death… So that the tormented may have peace._  
  
Luigi glanced up from the page. Dimentio was holding out the quill to him, a drop of ink suspended on the tip. He stared at the cold porcelain smile, memories brimming up. Merciless laughter and fire.  
  
He accepted the pen and signed his name, dotting the I's with a flourish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, this whole thing sure would be suuuper out of character if not for context aha...ha ha...


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Warning: The gross doth returneth this chapter! 
> 
> So I spent a long time while I was writing the early chapters deliberating whether this needed to happen or not, and I eventually decided yeah, it did... I might be insane.

14  
  
The runes imprinting the page glowed for several seconds. "It is sealed…" Dimentio said.  
  
Luigi stared down at the contract. What had he just done?  
  
Dimentio looked at him expectantly. "We should decide upon a date and time. I would prefer that you not put it off, as I now have no other way of leaving this existence."  
  
"I-I can't do this!" Luigi cried. "You tricked me!"  
  
"You didn't have to sign it. You cannot back out now."  
  
"W-What if I try to…"  
  
Dimentio only shook his head. "As far as I'm aware, it's impossible to, one way or another." He sank further into his chair, fingers crinkling the paper. "I don't understand why this is difficult for you. You have said many times that you'd prefer me dead."  
  
Luigi backed away. "Y-Yes, but-"  
  
"Look." He stood suddenly and approached. "I am giving you the opportunity to do whatever you want to me. You can do away with me as I'm sure you've wished."  
  
Luigi could see how afraid he was. "Why…Why do you… Why me? Isn't…isn't death what scares you the most?"  
  
"Because… You are the person I've hurt the most. Love has been called the strongest force in the universe, the greatest thing. But it is also called the ruiner of lives, the undoing of many. I tried to avoid it, but alas, it got me in the end. You deserve to do this."  
  
"You still think you love me?"  
  
"Oh, Luigi…" The jester cupped Luigi's cheek with a hand, staring into his eyes. "You make me question everything I know, and I cannot bear it." The hand slipped away, and he looked down. "Please… My mind is dangerously close to snapping, and I don't think either of us wants to see what I would become then. …Of course, I am afraid, but if I care for you at all, then the best thing I can do for you is to go away…permanently. Then, you might find some freedom from the scars I've left you."  
  
Luigi felt the urge to hug him. A thousand words begged for release. All that escaped was, "I-… Thank you…" He took a step closer, unsure what to do. He didn't doubt it anymore. Dimentio had fallen for him, hard. He was falling right to his death.  
  
And now every time Luigi thought of the possibilities, so much as considered backing out, his sentiments were immediately turned back around. He was reminded of all the nightmares, the lies, the things that had made his body and soul scream in agony. If Dimentio could change, he could also change right back. He was an abusive person, clearly. It was too dangerous to ever give him a chance.  
  
Dimentio had enough love in him to do this. Luigi could go through with his end of it, too. He hoped that Dimentio would at least be free from his own torments, though he doubted he would escape punishment.  
  
Something had to give. They were only destroying each other, and they needed release.  
  
There was no point to waiting. His conviction would fade. "O-Ok…" Luigi said, taking a deep breath. "I-I need to do this n-now, while I'm strong enough to. And if…" He left it unspoken. "Mario won't be back for a while."  
  
Dimentio looked startled, and shrank with fear. His heart immediately began to pound, his breathing picking up. He nodded stiffly, shuddering.  
  
Slowly, Dimentio walked Luigi through the steps of what he had to do, whether he went with the added clause or not. Dimentio showed him where the medical supplies were, and told him how to take care of burns if he so desired.  
  
He told him that the door he'd created would remain open so he could leave. And he even taught him how to get rid of it so that Dimension D wouldn't be attached to their house forever.  
  
The jester spoke in a dead-sounding voice. If Luigi didn't want to kill him in one way, all the man in green had to do was say the cutting phrase to end the contract, and he could leave him to die from the injuries. He had zero obligations to heal him, nor should he want to.  
  
Dimentio was absolutely certain that Luigi hated him. Anything that said otherwise would always be overshadowed by the darkness he had inflicted upon him; darkness that could never be absolved. It didn't matter anyway. He had signed as well.  
  
Luigi cringed a little when they went into the torture room. It was their final stop. He was confused at first when Dimentio unclipped his poncho and slipped it off, revealing the black long-sleeved shirt he had on underneath. At first, he was afraid Dimentio was trying something again, but then he realized it was because it would be even more unpleasant for both of them if he didn't undress.  
  
He watched anxiously as the jester shed each article of his motley until nothing was left. He blushed, trying not to glance down or look anywhere in that general region. He was thinner than Luigi had realized, clearly not taking care of himself anymore.  
  
Dimentio turned to him and closed the distance between them. It wasn't until their eyes met that Luigi realized the villain was  _terrified_. They both were.  
  
For a moment, he gently the plumber's hands. Luigi felt how the limber fingers lingered, aching to touch more.  
  
Then, Dimentio's shaking hands were raised to his mask. "One m-more t-thing…" he muttered, struggling to keep his breathing even. He wanted…he wanted Luigi to know the real him. He never imagined that he would show anyone this, but he thought he owed it to the person who broke his heart. Luigi should see his real face before it was gone. He needed him to see. So, he steeled himself, and removed the comic's mask that had been his shield for a long, long time.  
  
Luigi gasped, eyes widening in shock. He felt tears welling up, and couldn't help but stare. Dimentio's face was… _destroyed_. It was the only word for it.  
  
An enormous set of angry scars stretched from chin to brow, covering nearly every inch of his skin; so much so that his expression without the mask was nearly indiscernible. He had no eyebrows, the ghost of lips, and only a gnarled stub of nose.  
  
The only thing that still looked human was his indescribably pain-filled eyes. Salty droplets escaped and ran down the ragged tracks of his ruined skin. "This is why no one will ever love me…" he said softly.  
  
Luigi felt a pure and heart-rending sympathy. He'd always wondered what was under Dimentio's mask, especially during his time as Mr. L. He pictured a number of things; he only wore it for the mystery and was actually normal-looking, or even handsome; maybe he had a scar or something else to hide.  
  
But he'd never imagined this. He almost asked what had happened. He didn't, knowing it wasn't the right time.  
  
Dimentio kept his gaze down, unable to bear Luigi's scrutiny. He knew what he was thinking; how ugly he was, how mutilated and broken. He would be filled with disgust. But his heart still gave a painful squeeze when Luigi put a hand on his shoulder and spoke.  
  
"I can't do this."  
  
Dimentio smiled softly, though it could no longer be seen. "You have to… Please…"  
  
Luigi shook his head, tears trickling down his cheeks. "No. I can't do this to you…"  
  
He closed his eyes and sighed as yet another wave of emotional anguish washed through him. "It's too late to change your mind," he retorted firmly.  
  
"I…" Luigi started to step away, but stopped. Magic tingled up and down his spine, locking him in place until he did what he had sworn to. He couldn't-He just-He just couldn't…  
  
Sensing his hesitation, Dimentio knew he had to switch tactics. He was going to have to push. He choked down the laughter that bubbled up his throat. To think, he was practically begging for his own death when he didn't want to die at all!  
  
" _Coward_ …"  
  
"W-What..?" Luigi blinked at him, shocked.  
  
The jester raised his head, suddenly emanating classic mockery. "You heard me. You're a coward. A fool, a weakling. You aren't strong at all. It's no wonder you failed to be a good host for the Chaos Heart."  
  
Luigi's face reddened, fists clenching. "Y-You…"  
  
"You're so inept, I have no idea how I could ever find anything of worth in you!" he mocked, trembling from head to toe. He saw how much it hurt and the tears came faster. "Do it! Just do it before I hurt you again!" he sobbed.  
  
With a sudden crack, he shrank himself down to the necessary size and applied what few protective spells he had allowed himself. It was the last magic he would ever use. "Go on then! Show me!  
  
Luigi was breathing heavily now, enraged. He knew what Dimentio was doing, but that didn't make it less effective. He watched him shrink down until he was small and defenseless, just as he once was. He briefly considered stepping on him, but that wasn't good enough. He bent down and scooped up the exposed man.  
  
Dimentio gasped at the crushing pressure of the fingers all around his body, arms pinned to his sides. He felt a pang of dread and was suddenly breathless. Luigi was suddenly so much bigger than him, and there wouldn't be mercy. He couldn't do anything to save himself, and that helplessness was the worst feeling in the world. He regretted that he had made his friend feel like this more than once.  
  
He saw Luigi's gaze soften as he examined him. So he continued to spew whatever he thought would anger him enough to do this. "And-And you're so feeble and powerless, that I'm surprised your brother even cares for you. What use are you when you only get in his way!" He couldn't help his panicked grin when the fingers tightened even more. He couldn't breathe.  
  
But still, Luigi hesitated. Dimentio was goading him on purpose, and he didn't know if he actually meant any of these things. He could feel the heaving of the jester's chest as he struggled for breath; the way his whole body was quivering violently with distress. He knew how terrible of a way it was to go.  
  
The pressure released, and he laid there on his back with his legs dangling freely off of Luigi's palm, panting and staring up at his awful green ceiling. He wanted to teleport away to safety, but couldn't seem to make the magic work. He sat up on an elbow and glared at the giant, who again had that idiotic pitying expression on his face. He gritted his teeth and reminded himself that it wasn't going to matter how far he pushed.  
  
"You're so stupid… You're failing this test, and I'm going to keep you forever. I'll do with you what I please, and you'll never leave again. You'll be mine, and I will  _break_  you."  
  
Luigi licked his lips nervously. He could hear the hollowness of the threat, but it still scared him. He bent his head until he could smell the jester's sweat and fear, doing his best to ignore the fact that he was naked.  
  
Dimentio shrank away from the lowered nose, heart beating crazily. "Y-Y-Yes, g-go on and sh-show m-me!" he yelled, doing his best to keep still. " _Show me_ …"  
  
Luigi paused, hardly angry now. He could feel the magic coaxing him onward. He pushed thoughts of morals and what exactly was happening to the back of his mind, letting memories flow forward, memories of every moment of hurt, every moment that sent him cowering in his nightmares, every moment where he wished the jester didn't exist. He  _had_  to kill him, for the sake of his safety and his sanity. There was no other choice.  
  
It wasn't so hard then, to lightly lick the villain's chest. A shudder went through both of them.  
  
Dimentio inhaled sharply at the feeling. Luigi licked him again, with a lot more tongue this time. He closed his eyes with a quiet sigh, Luigi's damp breath washing over him as he rested his head where the edge of the hand fit comfortable against his neck. More hesitant passes came, the plumber slowly beginning to work on other parts of his body.  
  
The jester relaxed briefly, finding the act both incredible and sensual. He bit back a moan as the pace sped up a bit, not allowing pleasure to make him forget what this was about. He let terror flood through him instead, making his muscles tremble anew. It wasn't the immediate future he was afraid of; it was the thought of what came afterwards that struck at his core. He didn't want to go back to that place to be cursed in a way that triggered his deepest fears. And yet, it was inevitable that it happen.  
  
Luigi began to suck on his forearm. Dimentio laid his palm flat on the warm pad, feeling the little bumps of taste buds. Not to say that this didn't hold power in its own right. Again and again he found himself unconsciously reaching for the magic and failing to find it, shivering in the cold touch of air after each burst of heat. He hadn't given himself any way to escape. This was the last gift he could give; the gift of justice. He could do nothing but let it happen now, so he tried not to fight it.  
  
Luigi got used to the taste quickly. It wasn't bad, really. Dimentio didn't move, eyes closed, completely surrendering himself up to him. Luigi could feel the tenseness in his body, but was right to think he wouldn't fight. The plumber felt a thrill shoot through him. He was really doing this! He remembered what it was like to be subjected to this. Now, it was  _his_  turn to be in control! And it was exciting to have this power.  
  
He moved on to the legs and arms, salivating somewhat. Dimentio wanted him to show him what it was like, and he would. His uncertainty was melting away with each passing second, and he even heard his stomach grumble. Of course he was hungry! It was well past noon, and he'd skipped both breakfast and lunch.  
  
Some primal part of him was beginning to take over, and he conceded to it, blocking thoughts of how wrong and inhumane this was.  
  
He started to take in individual limbs, softly grazing them with his teeth. He felt the tickle of the man's fingers and toes, amazed that he could feel every detail of the living skin. It didn't quite disgust him anymore. He was beginning to understand why Dimentio had taken such enjoyment from it. It was probably a bad thought to have, but he couldn't care at the moment.  
  
Dimentio opened his eyes, gazing up at the plumber. Luigi's blue eyes were clouded, and he felt sad that he would never get to see them sparkle again. Luigi was really having his way with him now, becoming a little rough with his teeth. He caught glimpses of the dark hole in his throat awaiting him. He heard the growls of Luigi's stomach demanding he be delivered to it, just as his had done before. His skin crawled as he was overcome with fresh dread. He wanted to yell and writhe, anything to escape this horror. Even so, he contained himself, having no choice but to accept things as he had made them.  
  
He focused on the beautiful eyes that he loved, suddenly filled with doubt. Was he hurting the man yet again by killing something of his innocence? He wished he could have been brave enough to take his own life.  
  
Luigi noticed that Dimentio was looking at him, ice-blue eyes filled with remorse and sorrow and despair. He couldn't stop himself from slowly caressing his face, that darker part of him reveling in the unique texture of the scars. He could taste the salt of silent tears.  
  
Dimentio placidly closed his eyes, feeling the tip of the tongue work through the grooves of his face, wrapping all the way around to embrace his whole head. No one had ever touched his face, and he struggled to tolerate it. When he next opened his eyes, Luigi's gaze was a little colder. Maybe he had asked too much of Luigi. He didn't like the way he was emulating his own torture so effectively. But he could never cause complete terror over this, only his real fate.  
  
He'd done Dimentio's front. He didn't push away the frigid calm that had crept in. He kept thinking of all the suffering he'd been through at Dimentio's hands and remained able to continue. He nudged the jester with a finger, turning him over onto his stomach. It was so much easier without being able to see the jester's face. But he was getting bored, conviction flagging.  
  
He was aware of being flipped over, his arms stretching past his head to dangle like his legs. The work began anew. It was a dizzying experience, putting his life in another's hands with the full expectation that it would be snuffed out. His heart was racing, and he could tell he was hyperventilating, but it all seemed far away. Things were leveling out and growing numb. The wait was agony.  
  
Luigi felt something click inside of him, and knew what to do next. He was almost eager to proceed now, thinking of revenge and how delicious it was. He knew he wasn't being himself, but it didn't matter. He would be free after this. It wasn't so hard to do after all.  
  
Dimentio felt the tickle of both his feet being taken in, lips leisurely making their way up his legs. It startled him when they found the back of Luigi's throat. There was a wet gulp, and he whimpered, realizing that the time had arrived and was coming fast now. He was pulled backwards, already in the inexorable grip of his throat.  
  
He could hardly breathe he was so scared. Every part of him rejected the idea that he was about to die. And still, Dimentio did not fight it, only shook all the harder as he was gradually brought inside. He looked back over his shoulder and started to whimper and cry worse when he saw the pink muscles locked tightly around him.  
  
Luigi paused very briefly to force the jester's arms past his jaws. He hardly hesitated to swallow. It was wonderful, the way he was filling his throat. He could hear all the pitiful sounds Dimentio was making, and was struck by an idea.  
  
The uvula brushed along the small of his back as he was consumed. He tried to keep his hands clear of the esophagus, but they were swept back and ingested as well. And then the clean white teeth clamped around his neck like a vice, as if to decapitate him. His breathing was cut off and bruises were left. The lips were on the back of his head and chin.  
  
The world titled upwards, and then he was released. He only understood when he began to slide downwards with his own weight, the strong muscles around him quivering on reflex. Luigi's lips slowly closed over his head, and that was the last he saw of his self-made world. Left only with the dim, rose-tinted light that made it through the plumber's cheeks, Dimentio shut his eyes, knowing he'd never open them again.  
  
The swallowing resumed, and he felt the force of each motion dragging him in. Very soon, his head was resting on the backwards slope of the tongue. It lifted and drove his face back, and then he was suffocating, completely trapped in the relentless power of Luigi's throat. It pushed and pulled in turns, causing him to descend steadily and bringing him down to a strong ring of muscle.  
  
Thrilled, a moan escaped Luigi as he inwardly tracked Dimentio's journey towards his stomach. He could feel the jester's body settle inside of him, spine tingling. He made sure to gulp down air every few seconds, as instructed.  
  
It took a minute for the doubt to start setting in.  
  
After a moment, the sphincter opened for him, and he flinched when his feet encountered the hot liquid. Inch by inch, he was unhurriedly deposited in the prison. He gasped for air, lungs burning, shivering despite the unbearable heat. The stomach walls pressed into him with their twisted embrace, leaking the acid that would kill him.  
  
The knowledge that death was so close rattled him completely. As he sat there, hugging his legs tightly to his chest and listening to Luigi's excited heart beating above him, the burning started. It intensified with every second, but he did not scream. Despair and pain consumed him.  
  
He began to sob, unable to contain all the hurt. It just wasn't fair. He'd thrown away his second chance without even doing a single useful thing with it.  
  
He'd learned what love was, and what it promised to be. It promised to be light, and happiness, and laughter, and trust, but it was really pain, and broken hearts, and empty desire, and emotions you drowned in.  
  
It wasn't fair. Why had he been born only to suffer? Why had he been denied everything that made a person human? Fire seared through him, and he tried to go with the tide. It ebbed and flowed inside of him, crushing the last bit of hope he had.  
  
 _Let go…_  
  
He didn't want to die. He'd never gotten to truly live.  
  
 _Let go…_  
  
He wasn't aware that he was crying and screaming at the top of his lungs. The pain was blotting out everything.  
  
 _Let go…_  
  
He didn't want to become nothing. But there was nothing left for him.  
  
He deserved to be nothing, and that was what hurt the most.  
  
The blackness was fading into him, and he went with it. It was all going away now; such a brief peace.  
  
He let go.  
  


* * *

  
The doubt only increased from there. He listened, and for a long agonized moment there was nothing but the gurgling noises of his stomach adjusting. And then there was something soft at first, which began to grow louder.  
  
It was crying. Dimentio was crying.  
  
It was a sound of pure despair and terror, and Luigi recognized that it didn't come from the physical fire. It was the sound of absolute, unyielding hopelessness. He thought about what Dimentio had told him, about how he had never asked to be a monster.  
  
How could he have done this? How could he have taken away what little he had? Why had he told him no so many times when the truth was he could have tried?  
  
He was quieting now, dying. It hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking out his air.  
  
No one else had ever destroyed him so completely. No one else had ever made him feel good in those special sorts of ways. The hole that had been made years ago throbbed, black.  
  
What had he done?


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

15  
  
_The dark seemed to surround him from all sides. He was running. He didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't let them catch him. If they caught him, he would go back.  
  
It couldn't happen. It had taken years for him to get this far. He hadn't remembered that he'd had a plan. It had been forgotten as he was broken again and again and again.  
  
Finally, he had had the briefest of moments to find the thread he'd left, and now he struggled to follow it. Every footfall seemed to take an eternity, an infinite number of moments in between each breath. He could hear them behind him.  
  
He felt so weak. He called upon another burst of terror, another blossom of hate to fuel him.  
  
Cold crept down his spine. _ Dimentio! _she was calling.  
  
He had to keep going. He would never get another chance. He would be trapped for all eternity.  
  
The pain! Oh Grambi, the pain!  
  
_ Dimentio…!  
  
Halt this instant! _  
  
No! He refused! He shouldn't be down here! It couldn't be his time yet!  
  
Hatred surged through him. He would escape, and he would kill those who had put him here. They had made the hurt so much worse, and he would make sure they'd suffer for it.  
  
And he hated her, for all her cruelty.  
  
And he hated everyone he'd ever come into contact with, for all their apathy and rejection.  
  
And he hated the whole entire universe, for the fate it had assigned him.  
  
He would destroy it all. He'd find a way.  
  
He stopped suddenly. She was right behind him, alone, her guards left far behind in the dust.  
  
_ Face me, you bastard. _  
  
He did not turn around, back completely stiff.  
  
No.  
  
_ Face your just punishment, you cowardly man.  
  
You cannot deny death herself. _  
  
He knew that. But it wasn't going to stop him from trying. He wouldn't be pushed around. Ever since he'd discovered his powers, he'd sworn he'd never let ANYONE ever bully him again.  
  
He'd found it. He was right there, by the fountain with the healing orange liquid.  
  
All he had to do was put his hand in it…  
  
_ Don't you dare! _she hissed.  
  
He jumped, still stubbornly staying just where he was. His phantom heart pounded desperately, knowing he could be whisked back to the depths of hell at any moment.  
  
He slowly began to extend his arm.  
  
_ I swear to you… _  
  
His fingers were centimeters away from the water.  
  
_ The next time we meet… _  
  
Her voice was like ice.  
  
He was shaking terribly, hesitating. What was worse than what he'd already endured?  
  
_ I will grant you a curse. I will make sure no being dead or alive ever acknowledges your existence again. I will erase you and everything that is you; your name, your deeds, your memories… You will exist on your own plane, alone. You will not be heard, nor felt. I will doom you to total and absolute isolation. _  
  
All the breath left him. He froze up completely, terrified right down to his very core.  
  
S-She couldn't…  
  
_ I can, and I will. It is a curse befitting a wretch like you. I promise you… _  
  
Nonononono please  
  
_ I will destroy you completely. _  
  
She lunged at him.  
  
He came into contact with the healing spring. A magnificent surge of energy filled him, healing over all the physical scars of torture and restoring his form to him. He'd been so shapeless and devoid before...  
  
For a split second, he felt it. For a split second, he was whole again, reunited with the tiny piece of his soul that remained alive. For a split second, he had his magic.  
  
And a second was all he needed.  
  
With an ear shattering report, he vanished, flying upward with incredible speed.  
  
He screamed, pain exploding all throughout him as his body began to reform. First the bones, then the muscles, then the skin, and all the little bits in between. It was excruciating, but he knew it would be worth it.  
  
Black sped past, and soon lights flashed before his eyes. He felt like passing out, but held on stubbornly.  
  
He gasped, newborn lungs stinging wickedly with the taste of still air. His eyes flew open, and for moments more there was only obsidian blindness until streaks of white faded into his vision.  
  
He lay there panting, every part of him aching.  
  
He had done it. This emptiness was Castle Bleck.  
  
He didn't realize he was laughing at first.  
  
He was alive again.  
  
But at what cost?  
  
He had stolen a second chance, made his very own continue, but at what cost?  
  
He had just condemned himself to a fate worse than torture.  
  
He had bought himself some time.  
  
But he was mortal. Eventually, he would be faced with his deepest, most terrible fears. He knew they would destroy him.  
  
He was shivering, naked and cold on the floor.  
  
He struggled to get up, unused to the physical functions of a body.  
  
It was far better than being a vessel of pure agony.  
  
But…  
  
No! Don't think of it!  
  
He took deep breaths, let the familiar flame of hate and hurt fill him.  
  
Revenge was where he should focus his thoughts.  
  
He would bring the world to its knees.  
  
Surely, it couldn't forget him then.  
  
…Right?  
  
She had promised.  
  
The words of Queen Jaydes were etched into his heart._  
  


* * *

  
It took a moment longer for him to come back to himself. The force that had been pushing him along left without warning, and he fell to his knees and hands, dry heaving.  
  
He couldn't hear anything anymore. Had he truly committed murder just now?  
  
Why had he signed and allowed himself to be put under this spell? Why had he lied to himself?  
  
Dimentio… He started to sob when the old wound opened up, the wound that still hurt years later, every night that he woke up with no one to comfort him.  
  
It wasn't true. He didn't hate him, not this much. All the hurt in those eyes… All those silent cries for relief…  
  
What was he so afraid of?  
  
H-He didn't want him  _gone…_  
  
The sick feeling twisting in the pit of his stomach grew, until he finally threw up for real. He broke into a cold sweat when he felt something very solid coming up and bent down even closer to the floor. After it was done, he sat up and wiped his mouth, hyperventilating.  
  
There, in the mess, was a small prone form. Oh-Oh god, there was so much blood…!  
  
He gingerly scooped up the still man, cradling him as gently as he could. If something could still be done, it had to be done now.  
  
He couldn't hesitate. He couldn't think that it was too late.  
  
He jumped up and rushed to the sink. He turned the water to lukewarm and held Dimentio's tiny body under it for a few seconds, watching it turn pink with a chill. He hoped it would wash away the remainder of the damaging acid.  
  
Then he laid him down in the center of the clean metal table and hurriedly dug around in his pockets. He tried to keep his mind clear. He couldn't afford to panic right now.  
  
Finally, he found what he was looking for and pulled out the green-spotted 1-up mushroom. He and Mario always carried one with them, just in case. While it wasn't nearly as effective on other beings besides the brothers, surely it had to do something to help.  
  
He squeezed it in between his hands, letting the healing light-green juice pour out onto the jester. He didn't care that it trickled off the table and splattered around his shoes, finding its way into the drain under the table. He just crushed it as hard as he could, trying to get out every last drop.  
  
He threw it away once it was dry, and then Luigi shouted out the cutting phrase; "The contract is fulfilled! Undo the magic!"  
  
His words rang emptily in the air, and he feared it wouldn't work because there was nothing to apply it to. But then, Dimentio regrew to his natural size, and he flinched at the damage. Aside from the visible areas that he'd chosen to protect with magic, every inch of his skin was swollen and leaking blood and pus. Only his hands, feet, head, and genitals were left uninjured, seeming for all the world like a white expanse of freshly fallen, undisturbed snow. A hand hung limply from the table, clotted red trickling down it to drip from a graceful finger.  
  
Luigi balked, heart working overtime. There was so much…so much… Dimentio's chest rose and fell very, very slightly with faltering breath. He hadn't died yet, but he could at any second.  
  
So Luigi turned to the small instrument table. A menagerie of instruments of torture had been pushed aside into an untidy pile in favor of the few medical supplies.  
  
Right now, he really needed to get the bleeding to stop. There was a bottle of cream designed to coagulate blood, and he painstakingly began to apply it to the bandages he wrapped the jester up with. He couldn't tell if the mushroom had done anything or not.  
  
After several agonized minutes, he was done. Dimentio couldn't stay on the table, so he delicately carried him to the single bedroom of Dimension D, where he tenderly laid him down in his own bed, covering him with a light blanket. The heart monitor and IV were already there, and he didn't have too much trouble hooking them up.  
  
Then, he sat in the chair so long occupied by the jester. There was nothing more he could do now, and he was so afraid it wouldn't be enough. Dimentio had been so frail and thin… Could his body really take this kind of punishment and pull through?  
  
It was only now, as he listened to the steady beep of the heart monitor and watched the little green line go up and down weakly, did he notice the tears that fell freely from his eyes. He'd probably been crying the whole time. He was parched, actually, the bad taste of vomit still in his mouth.  
  
But he wasn't going to leave, not even to quickly get a drink. He wasn't going to leave him alone for one second. Because, what if he came back and he hadn't been here to see that last sigh escape him? He was going to sit here and watch over him, because Luigi no longer believed he should die alone.  
  
Until it was time to treat him again, he finally had time to think. His heart gradually slowed down, and he could breathe better now. Salty drops continued to fall, and a quiet sob escaped him every once in a while.  
  
He didn't know if the jester was going to survive. Should he even want him to? All the nightmares, the exploding fire and fear… But before all that, there had been a real and swiftly blossoming friendship…and that was the true basis of their relationship, not the betrayal. It had never seemed weird to him that they had been together nearly all the time, or that they had taken to sleeping in the same bed simply because it was easier. It had never seemed wrong that the other was always there beside him with gentle words and steadfast embraces to ease away the fear.  
  
He missed it. He wanted it back, and he knew Dimentio did as well. Had he already destroyed that possibility with his words and with the blood on his hands?  
  
Those injuries… How could anyone survive them? Dimentio had had his magic, but Luigi had nothing of the sort. He had done his best, but would it be enough?  
  
Their roles had been completely reversed. Now, he was the one sitting in the chair, and Dimentio was the one entombed in the bed, hanging by a thread. He wondered if this had been the jester's intention. Certainly, he had wanted to see what it was like to die that way, but had he meant for Luigi to see his side as well?  
  
Somehow, he didn't think so. That crying… He wouldn't have cried like that if he hadn't believed he was in his final moments. He wouldn't have looked up at him from the palm of his hand, acceptance and regret in his gaze.  
  
Some part of him had believed that it wasn't real. But burns like these couldn't be faked. The shallow breathing and transparent heartbeat couldn't be faked. His back had been burned worse than his front, having been in more direct contact with his stomach lining. There was no way he would subject himself to that just for a lie.  
  
He shuddered and swallowed bile at the thought. It had been so surreal when it happened to him, and he was hit with a strong burst of empathy. How could he have done this? How could he have failed to realize how much he actually cared about Dimentio, despite everything? It really was true that you didn't realize what you had until it was gone, or you thought it was.  
  
He stared at Dimentio's scarred face and eventually reached out and touched it. His fingers traced each line and crease, wondering who had done this to him. He doubted something like that was accidental. And now, would the rest of his body look like that? Would he become crippled? Luigi didn't have the power to heal him as Dimentio had done for him. He couldn't give away his own energy to rebuild muscles and ligaments and skin, couldn't watch carefully for signs of infection.  
  
Luigi leaned back in the chair, feeling doomed. Was this what it had been like for Dimentio? Was this what it had been like for him, realizing too late that you loved this person as you brought them to the brink of death? Was this what it had been like for him to realize that he had burned too many bridges, that the trust between them could never be repaired?  
  
And yet, Dimentio had taken painstakingly good care of him anyway. He'd exhausted himself to the point of fainting to heal him, had made sure that his muscles worked again as they should, had even made sure he wouldn't be horribly scarred.  _Just like his face…_  He put two and two together, now understanding why Dimentio had been so insistent on the last point.  _He didn't want me to look like him…_  
  
Luigi felt even more tears well up. He felt stupid and blind and cruel. He had said no to every possibility, not thinking that any of them could be  _good_. And he began to think of what ifs.  
  
What if, somehow, they could really go back to the way it had been before? What if they could turn their relationship good again?  
  
What if he gave him a chance?  
  
What if he forgave him?  
  
_Could_  he forgive him? The years of nightmares seemed small now. The image of the cold manipulator, the cruel smile, seemed colorless, almost fake. It didn't scare him so much anymore. He'd truly seen under it.  
  
The Dimentio who lay before him was the real one. The Dimentio who had given up his life was the real one. The Dimentio who had kissed him and cried into the crook of his neck, who had let him go because he couldn't bear to hold him against his will, who had held his hand through all the dark long nights of his ordeal at Castle Bleck… That Dimentio was the real one, the one under the act he put up to protect himself. That Dimentio was afraid, and alone.  
  
What was he trying to protect himself from? Why did his own feelings have such a dramatic effect on him? What was his idea of the perfect world he had wanted so badly?  
  
Unconsciously, Luigi had sat down on the edge of the bed and was stroking Dimentio's dark and unruly hair. He blinked and paused, wondering. He shifted back to the chair and took hold of the jester's left hand, laying it across one hand as he examined the slender fingers. They were clever fingers, and his skin tingled slightly at the remembrance of being touched by them.  
  
He looked up at the pale neck, ringed with purple bruises where he'd clamped down. He shuddered. He could hardly believe he'd taken enjoyment from this only an hour or two ago. He wasn't sure what had come over him. He'd known it was wrong, but he'd written his name anyway.  
  
All the rage and terror had left him, as if he'd worked it out of his system. He wasn't scared of Dimentio now, only ached for what they used to have.  
  
His thoughts were cycling, looping through the same questions and possibilities on repeat. What it came down to was two paths; one, a path of suffering for him where he was only a plaything. What did the jester know about loving someone? It would be easy for him to treat him like that. Dimentio was inherently selfish and possessive. What would happen if he couldn't work past those traits?  
  
But if he could, path number two was what came of it. And hadn't he already? He had released him and stayed out of his life for months. He had offered up his very life instead of giving in to his desires. Had Dimentio done that because he couldn't stand to see Luigi be afraid of him? He remembered the scene in the hallway, the knife against his throat, and the gray-blue eyes staring into his, softening bit by bit as they filled with tears.  
  
Had Dimentio lost the ability to purposefully hurt him?  
  
What if the answer was yes?  
  
What if he was capable of listening and putting someone else's needs before his own? He was, wasn't he? He'd already done it, giving up his own energy for Luigi's sake. Letting him go because he knew he didn't  _want_  to be trapped with him.  
  
What if he trusted him again, as he used to? What could they accomplish if they trusted each other?  
  
What pain had warped the jester's soul, so much that he would become something like this? He was human. Luigi had seen it. He'd seen him be vulnerable as no one else had. He'd seen how afraid he was of letting anyone in.  
  
He was worried. What if Dimentio never woke up again? What if he couldn't ask all these questions, or tell him that he…that he…  
  
That he loved him, too.  
  
He shouldn't, but the terror he'd just felt told him that he did.  
  
It scared him, because there was no guarantee of goodness. He thought it was there, but it could disappear again. There was so much he didn't understand about the jester…  
  
Memories surfaced, ones he hadn't dwelled too much upon before.  
  
_"The world has always hated me. You have no idea what it's like to be so unwanted. It hurts so terribly… It feels good to lash out, to hurt people."  
  
"Is it so wrong to hate when the entire world hates you…"_  
  
Why? Why hadn't Dimentio been able to reach out?  
  
What had made him so afraid to try?  
  
_"Thanks…"  
  
"For what?"  
  
"You know… For being there. For being my friend. You really make this whole thing bearable."_  
  
He had touched his soul like no other being had. He had given him butterflies.  
  
_"I still can't do it…"  
  
"One look in those beautiful eyes of yours and I…"_  
  
It only hit him now, that Dimentio thought he was beautiful. That Dimentio had called him strong.  
  
_"So what do you want me to do then! I can't take any of it back!"  
  
"Please forgive me, please!"_  
  
What did you do when someone was truly sorry? When they desperately wanted to take back the mistakes they'd made, but couldn't? What did you do when you wanted to forgive them but had so many reasons not to?  
  
_"I-I'm so sorry, Luigi… Help me, please help me…"_  
  
Help. Not stay. Not give. Help.  
  
_"It's things like this that hurt the most…"  
  
"The almost peaceful moments… They hurt because I know I'll never have more than this."_  
  
It did hurt, thinking of all the moments alone…before… When they had been friends. When it had been so easy and natural.  
  
_"…You're incapable of love."  
  
"No…I'm not… Won't you show me how?"_  
  
He didn't know if he could. What if it only ended worse for him? What if it didn't?  
  
What would happen if he woke up? What would happen after he was healed and was stronger than Luigi again?  
  
_"Do you… Do you think I could change?"_  
  
What if he  _could_  change? What if he  _could_  learn how to love the right way? What if he helped him?  
  
_"…Am I made for pain? Is this my only purpose?"_  
  
His face… The scars… All that hurt inside…  
  
_"No. I can't do this to you…"_  
  
What could they build together? Could they ever heal?  
  
_"I'm so afraid…"_  
  
Neither of them had to be afraid anymore.  
  
As he sat there looking at his best friend, thinking…  
  
As his tears continued to drip to the floor…  
  
He felt in his heart that…he had to try.  
  
In that moment, he bent down and kissed the ruined forehead.  
  
He forgave him. At least for now.  
  
The future was uncertain, and all he could do was wait to see what was ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I dunno if I'm ever gonna finish this or not, it's been nearly 3 years since this went on hiatus. If I manage to get some motivation one of these days, there's only going to be a chapter or two left, since I discarded my original ending. If not, thanks for reading my garbage!


End file.
